


The Profound Bond

by Aria_Lerendeair



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Bantering, Brotherly Arguments, Canon Typical Violence, Castiel has a sense of humor and Dean appreciates it, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Grace Bonding, Happy Ending, M/M, NSFW, S4/S5 Canon Divergent, Sam Ships It, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, mentions of torture, sex scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 56,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair/pseuds/Aria_Lerendeair
Summary: (See the video that inspired it here, created by Cinderfels! Dean and Sam are on a simple ghost hunt in DC when a demon appears and calls them the vessels of Lucifer and Michael.  Things escalate, and spiral from there.  Dean ends up with a new partner, an angel who might be working against them.  But when they’re kidnapped by demons, and Lucifer is set free, it’s them against the world.  And maybe a little help from an angel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the incredible preview video created by Lamberis George, which you can see [here](http://modestdeanmon.tumblr.com/post/135583365104/why-did-i-just-discover-this-its-flawless-not)!! I okay'd it with them before using this as inspiration, but they absolutely deserve the credit for a truly amazing idea! 
> 
> Letzi, my truly wonderful and amazing artist, created two fucking STUNNING pieces of art, which you can find [here](http://disizletzi.tumblr.com/post/152705721739/the-profound-bound-by-aria-lerendeair-dcbb-2016) AND [here](http://disizletzi.tumblr.com/post/152705773744/the-profound-bound-by-aria-lerendeair-dcbb-2016)!!!
> 
> Letzi can also be found at her amazing blog with LOTS of other art and excellent fanfiction [here](http://disizletzi.tumblr.com/)!! So please make sure to check her out!!

Dean balled up his first draft of the report explaining why they had needed the stakes, traps and nets they had to finish dealing with the kelpies that they had had last week. At least it was reasonably coherent and Bobby wouldn't fuck with it. He knew kelpies were a pain in the ass, and he'd even managed to submit the shit properly through the automated system instead of tossing a paper on Bobby's desk. 

(Paper tossing was allowed in the case of Wendigos and Dragons. It was a rule, established silently between the both of them. There was some shit that you just didn't talk about and needed to both drink and sleep off.) Dean leaned back in his chair and opened up his computer, settling it easily on his lap. Now to see if they could find another case nearby, keep Sam distracted from the fact that he was supposed to be hearing from those jackasses in the Monster Eradication Research department any day now. 

At least if Sam was in charge of the damn place, they'd stop giving him shit every time he called because he didn't want to spend fifteen hours digging through old papers in a local library. That's why they were there, to do this sort of research for him. Sam had been doing it for decades, there was no reason that they couldn't do it as well already. But they weren't fans of him, and if Sam was there, they wouldn't have a choice. 

Dean grinned and pulled up a news story and studied it, typing out a few notes for himself. It might be an evil spirit, might be a pissed off ex. Would be worth the drive out of DC to maybe check it out and see what was going on. He'd also have to talk to Bobby about getting that Kansas branch up and running. He and Sam had found that old hunter bunker more than a year ago and the department was still attempting to scrub the magic off the place so they could use it. 

"Dean." 

Dean looked up at Sam over the top of his computer and resisted the urge to sigh. Sam might be taller than him, but he was still younger and the kid never could contain himself when he had news. Sam looked like he was about to bounce off the damn walls with excitement. Which meant that he had just lost his partner to the research geeks in the damn basement. "What's up Sammy?" 

"It's Sam," Sam growled, immediately scowling as he dropped himself into a seat. "Do you have to be such an asshole?" 

"Always," Dean said, raising his eyebrows. "Kinda my job, remember? Hey, I think I found us a-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted. "Come on man, you know that that kind of distraction doesn't work with me." 

Dean huffed and settled into his seat a little bit better. He did know it and that was the problem. He wanted to make sure that Sam stayed with him, but that wouldn’t make Sam happy. Sam wanted this to be more than just hunting, he wanted the career. Dean just wanted to shoot the things that ate people. "All right, out with it then." 

Sam's grin was back in a second. "I've been offered the job!" 

Dean fought down the immediate lurch of fear that that drove and gave his baby brother the biggest grin he could manage. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around Sam's shoulders in a quick hug before ruffling his hair. Sam swatted at him and he laughed, dancing out of the way. 

"Dammit, Dean, can't you fucking congratulate me like a normal person?" Sam grumbled, smoothing down his hair as he looked around. "Besides, you know what this means..." 

"Nope!" Dean said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to think about it, because the idea is impossible and maybe now the old man will let me work on my own like I have been asking for for years now." 

Sam rolled his eyes. "You and I both know that that is never going to happen." 

Dean whistled and focused back on the computer. That was the part that he was afraid of. But he'd also gone through almost every eligible partner that they had and majority of them refused to work with him any longer. "So when do you transition over to being a full-time nerd?" 

"It's not a nerd, it's-"

"I know, I know," Dean said, waving his hand. "L.E.G.A.C.Y., a throwback to the roots of the Men of Letters that were killed by demons more than fifty years ago." 

Sam snorted. "Say that a little more derisively, why don't you?" 

"We're monster eradication," Dean said with a shrug. "We kill bad things. Your new department researches the bad things so we can kill them better and more effectively. What do I care about the corporate bullshit name?" 

"You're hopeless," Sam said with a shake of his head. "But, you're happy for me?" 

Dean looked up from the computer again and he could see the worry and the fear there. That he'd think less of Sam for not going out on active hunts any longer. "I'm happy for you, kid. You wanted this, worked your ass off, and got it." 

Sam's grin was blinding and Dean fought down a smile, looking back at his computer. "In the meantime, how about this case? You feeling up for a drive? Think it's a simple spirit that we need to help move on." 

Sam laughed and stood up, stretching. "Yeah, if you finished the report on the kelpie infestation we dealt with." 

"Yes," Dean said, looking up at him. "Even used the automated system, so don't you dare bitch at me." 

Sam held up his hands. "No bitching happening, I'm so proud of you for finally stepping into the twenty-first century." 

Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and threw it over his shoulder, holding out the keys. "Let's get going!" 

~!~

"An easy hunt!" Sam shouted, rounding a corner and ducking as a fire poker hit the wall where his head had been only seconds before. "Isn't that what you told me?" 

"Fuck you!" Dean shouted back, crashing to his knees when a fucking axe came flying through the air. " _Down_!" 

Sam hit the deck just behind him and the axe wheeled above his head. "What fucking spirit throws an axe?!" 

"Hell if I know, but we need to get the fuck out of here!" Dean said, clambering to his feet and running for the door, only to have it slam shut in front of his face. He stepped back and kicked at the lock, but the door didn't budge. The air was starting to get thicker in the room, which didn't bode well for either of them. 

" _ **Move**_ , Dean," Sam said. 

Dean did it. Now wasn't the time to quibble about which of them could knock down a damn door faster. Sam kicked, hard, and it seemed like the whole damn side of the house rattled, but the door didn't budge. 

Dean tightened his hand on his shotgun and lifted it. He took a deep breath and looked around the room. "We're not alone," he warned Sam. Sam's gun was out and in his hand in seconds. Silver bullets wouldn't do much good against a ghost, unlike his rock salt, but some things were just good to shoot at. 

"Well, well, well. Look who it is," A low voice purred. 

Sam turned and pointed the gun at the woman walking down the stairs. "FBI! Freeze and put your hands up, or I'll shoot." 

She laughed, tossing her hair behind her. "Do you think that your silver bullets can do anything against me, Sam Winchester?" 

Dean shared a look with Sam and gave him the smallest of nods. They both raised their guns and fired, sending her sprawling back against the stairs. She didn't stay down long though, but it was enough to see her eyes turn black as she snarled at the burning salt. "Sam! Demon!" 

"Fuck!" Sam swore, throwing himself to the side as she launched herself at him, putting her fist through the front door. 

Dean scrambled off the floor and pointed the shotgun at her, firing off another shot, leaving two smoking holes in her back. "How well do you remember that exorcism, Sam?" 

"Well enough!" Sam shouted. 

"Start talking then!" Dean snapped, cocking the gun, firing another round, keeping the demon's attention on him. 

"You think these salt rounds are enough to stop me?" she asked. 

Dean backed up, cocking the gun again. He had two more rounds before he had to reload and there were at least four more shells in his pocket. Now he just had to make sure to stall her long enough for Sam to rattle off the damn exorcism. 

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," Sam managed to get out, ducking under a flying book. "Spirit is back!" 

"One problem at a time!" Dean said, keeping his eyes on the demon as she smirked at him. "Keep going!" 

"Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te...cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare...Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis..." Sam said, keeping his attention on the demon and anything else that wanted to come flying at him. 

She shuddered and blinked slowly, stepping closer. "Not even an exorcism by the vessel of Lucifer is enough to stop me, Dean Winchester. You are needed in Hell, we have a job for you." 

Dean fired. "One job is all I can handle right now, sweetheart, thanks!" 

Sam kept going, following his brother and the demon into the living room. He needed to hurry up. "Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine...quem inferi tremunt...Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine."

The demon suddenly turned on Sam and snarled. "You think you can force me to leave this vessel, send me back to hell? I should bring you with me, vessel of Lucifer!" 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, sliding two more shells into the shotgun, firing immediately. "Finish the damn thing!" he snapped. 

Sam stared at her, frozen, the words he needed to say slipping from his mind. "Vessel?" 

She smirked. "Yes. Of Lucifer, as a matter of fact. You are evil incarnate, after all. Hasn't anyone ever bothered to tell you?" 

Dean tackled the demon to the ground and pushed his hand to her face, growling, "Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!!" 

Her whole body bucked and Dean was glad when Sam dove forward and planted himself on her legs, keeping her pinned in place long enough for him to repeat the whole damn thing, before black smoke escaped out of her mouth, a loud shrieking noise escaping as it faded from sight. 

Dean slowly rolled off of the woman they were sitting on top of and pressed his hand to her neck. Pulse was faint, but there. "You fired non-lethal?" 

"Yeah," Sam said, grunting. "Need an ambulance." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed three numbers. "Need to get her on the lawn before that spirit comes back." 

"Front door," Dean said, pointing to it. He kept his eye out for any more flying objects and tried not to think about how the hell he was going to do all of the paperwork for this. Sam was able to get the door open without issue and Dean picked up the woman carefully and carried her outside. 

"Dean, what she said-"

"Call Bobby," Dean interrupted, looking at Sam. He could already see the fear and worry in his face. "Whatever the hell else happens doesn't matter, but if we've got demons showing up talking about Lucifer, we need to call Bobby and we need to do it _now_." 

Sam nodded, pulling out his phone again, pressing one number before holding it up to his ear. 

Dean focused on the woman as he put her down on the grass, pressing his hands to the wound on her shoulder. The ambulance was thankfully quick, and by the time they carted her off, he was ready to sleep for the next year and a half. The look on Sam's face told him that that wasn't going to be happening any time soon. "How bad?" 

"Return to headquarters. _Immediately_. No staying overnight here," Sam said. 

Dean cursed. "What about the spirit?" 

"Leave it," Sam said. 

"We can't just leave a fucking haunted house here that killed someone!" Dean snapped. 

Sam sighed. "It's going to take time to figure out where the hell the items we need to burn are. At the moment we can't afford to wait. I know you want to, Dean, but we've got bigger problems on our hands." 

Dean didn't bother answering and led his brother to the Impala. "Fuck, if we're driving back tonight, I need coffee. And so do you, for that matter. You need to tell me every single fucking thing that old man said, because I swear if you leave anything out trying to spare my-"

" _Dean Winchester_." 

Dean spun towards the new voice, his gun already in his hand and pointed at the woman standing in front of him who hadn't been there a few seconds ago. "Lady, I've had a very, _very_ bad day when it comes to randomly appearing women. I suggest you get the hell out of here." 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

She didn't smile at him. "They wouldn't do anything if you did fire it at me. I need you to come with me. You aren't safe here."

 

Dean felt a chill run up his spine and he took a step back towards his car. "I don't fucking think so. Who the hell are you?"

 

"They nearly got to you first, and had they only taken your brother, I would not have needed to bother with a trip here myself-"

 

"Hold up," Dean said, holding up a hand. "Back the fuck up. Taking Sam? Who the fuck wants to take Sam, and why? Who the hell are you?"

 

She stared at him. "You need to come with me, Dean Winchester. I will take you somewhere safe."

 

Dean shook his head. " _Fuck no_. I am not going anywhere with you. You take one step towards me and you'll get a bullet between the eyes. I shoot first and ask questions later."

 

The sound of the Impala's engine revving behind him made him thank some deity other than the fucker known as God for the fact that Sam had come with him. He fired a shot to the left of her head, enough to distract her while he threw himself into the front seat. "Fucking go, _now_!" he yelled at Sam. For once, Sam didn't question the order and they gunned it out of the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

 

Dean kept his eyes on the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk until she had faded from view. He shivered and rubbed his arms. "You pick my pocket to get the keys?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said, his hands gripping the wheel tight. "Lucky she didn't give a fuck about me. Her eyes never moved off of you."

 

Dean nodded and looked over at Sam. "You okay?"

 

Sam shook his head. "Nope. You?"

 

"Fuck no," Dean said, pulling out his phone. "Need to call the old man and find out what the fuck is going on. This is bigger than some case. I don't know what she was, but I have no doubt that she was right about being shot."

 

"And since when do demons appear out of nowhere and are powerful enough to withstand salt rounds?" Sam asked, taking a deep breath as he merged onto the highway. His fingers itched to dive into a book, to get some proper research done, to understand what the hell they were up against.

 

Dean sighed and didn't say anything as they burned their way back to headquarters. They were clearly expected, since neither of them had to pull out and present their badges as they pulled into the warded parking lot. For the first time, Dean let himself relax and breathe a little easier. Now they were as safe as they could possibly get.

 

"We're walking in there armed to the teeth, right?" Sam asked, climbing out of the driver's seat, tossing Dean the keys.

 

"You fucking bet we are," Dean said, opening the trunk, grabbing his favorite gun to tuck in the waistband of his pants. "You think after people mysteriously appearing I'm not going to?"

 

"Charlie is going to give us shit," Sam said.

 

"Yeah, well," Dean said. "She can fucking argue with me on a day when you aren't being called something to do with Lucifer and I don't have random women telling me I need to go with them for safety."

 

Sam shuddered and nodded, following Dean's route, tucking a bronze knife up his sleeve as well, doing his best to ignore the raised eyebrow from Dean. "Stake?"

 

"Got it," Dean said, shifting so he could put it into the holster on his leg. "There. We're as prepared as we can get for anything, even if they manage to get in here."

 

"Yeah," Sam agreed, turning to head towards the compound. Things were quiet around them, the usual hubbub of activity gone, and only serving to ratchet the tension up several more notches. "Dean-"

 

"Yeah," Dean agreed, pulling his standard-issue gun out of his holster. They walked down the entryway and past the initial screen. Charlie wasn't behind the desk, no one was. He took a deep breath and removed the safety. "Unless it's Bobby or Charlie in there, shoot first, ask later, right?" he said, looking over at Sam.

 

Sam nodded, pulling out his gun, pointing it at the door. "I've got you covered."

 

Dean took a deep breath and pushed open the door. He leveled the gun at Bobby and at the man standing next to him.

 

"Dean, Sam," Bobby said, staring at the both of them with a raised eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't throw the holy water on me."

 

Sam pulled the bottle out of his pocket and tossed the water on both of the men in front of him. "Thought we might have to shoot you first," he said, lowering the gun to chest-height when the water didn't appear to burn either of them. The one in the trenchcoat gave him a peculiar look and Sam ignored him, focusing on Bobby.

 

"So," Dean said, putting the safety back on his gun. "Want to tell us why the fuck this place is a ghost town, Bobby?"

 

"Well," Bobby said, looking at the man next to him. "That would be his fault."

 

Sam and Dean both turned to the man standing in the trenchcoat and said nothing.

 

"I apologize for any problems that this has caused, however it was necessary that we meet with you and Director Singer with no other persons present on campus. I took them to their homes and they will remain there until I say otherwise."

 

Sam blinked and lowered his gun the rest of the way. "You, you took them home? How?" He shivered when bright blue eyes were turned on him, narrowing.

 

"That is none of your business, _abomination_ ," the man answered.

 

Dean immediately raised his gun and leveled it at the other man. "I don't give a fuck who you are, man, but if you call my brother that again, I'll shoot you and Bobby can bitch about the paperwork for the next century as far as I am concerned."

 

"Dean," Bobby warned, holding up his hands. "Don't shoot him."

 

"Why the fuck not?" Dean growled.

 

"Because I am here to protect you, and that would be counter-intuitive to my mission," the man answered.

 

Dean blinked, the words reminding him of what the other woman had said, and he took a step back, grabbing Sam's sleeve to pull him with him. "Thanks, but no fucking thanks. I've had enough offers of protection today, I don't need another one."

 

The man frowned. "Who else has offered you protection today? You must tell me. We know that you were attacked by a demon, but has someone else-"

 

"Someone else showed up right after, telling me that I wasn't safe and needed to come with her," Dean said, pointing the gun at the guy in the trenchcoat. "So, forgive me if I'm a little suspicious of people saying that I need protection. Why don't you tell me what the fuck you are and I'll decide who and what I need protecting from?”

 

"Very well," the man said, turning to Director Singer. "You will speak with them on my behalf and make them understand why my protection is necessary."

 

Bobby nodded. "I'll talk to the both of them. No promises. But you tell the boys upstairs no more fucking emissaries. It's you, or no one else."

 

The man nodded. "As you wish, Director Singer. I shall relay the message to my garrison and superiors."

 

Sam froze when the man vanished. His mind flew over all of the wards they had in place on the building that should have prevented something like that from happening, but it had. All without anything resembling fanfare, the man had disappeared. "Bobby-"

 

"Okay, before you two play twenty fucking questions with me, I need a goddamn drink and so do you. Come on. My office," Bobby ordered, walking towards the room.

 

Dean shared a look with his brother before tucking the gun away and following after Bobby. Now that the other guy was gone, the place felt normal, the lights flickering and the sounds of the computers had returned to the room.

 

Bobby pulled out the bottle of bourbon that he saved for his longest and worst days and a pair of glasses. He poured two of them and pushed them towards Sam and Dean, taking a swig from the bottle himself. He settled down into his chair and looked at the boys in front of him, boys that he had helped raise as though they were his own sons. "We have a serious fucking problem on our hands."

 

Dean reached out for his glass and took a large gulp of it, sitting on the edge of Bobby's desk. "Sam mentioned bad from what he was telling me about your call earlier, and I couldn’t get ahold of you, likely because of trenchcoat back there. Did it get worse?"

 

"Yeah," Bobby said, looking between the two boys. "Not as bad as we could be, since now we know what the hell is going on and we can get ahead of destiny, as it were."

 

Sam laughed, looking at Bobby and then to Dean. "You heard what he called me, Bobby, you really think you can get ahead of destiny on this one?"

 

"He doesn't know any better, and I'll be giving his ass a serious reaming for that one. Whether he listens to me is another matter. Have a feeling he'll warm up to you after a little while though," Bobby said.

 

"Okay," Dean snapped. "Will the two of you tell me what the fuck is going on, since you had a chance to pow-wow earlier and I wasn't fucking invited?"

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about Cain, boy? And I'm talking the Biblical one."

 

Dean blinked and frowned. "Killed his brother, father of murder, bullshit like that. Story of not craving what another has, jealousy, that sort of preachy shit that's common in the bible."

 

"That's one way of putting it," Bobby said. "Well. What the bible didn't tell you is that Cain had kids."

 

Sam stared down at the glass of bourbon and took a sip, scowling at the taste. "A bloodline, to be precise," he added.

 

"Right," Bobby said. "And that bloodline, right now, is alive and well."

 

Dean looked between Sam and Bobby, raising his eyebrows. "Are you seriously fucking telling me what I think you are?"

 

"Yeah, boy, and that ain't the half of it," Bobby said.

 

Dean downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass to Bobby, glad when the old man didn't hold back on refilling it. "So what's the rest of it? What the hell does this have to do with Lucifer and why do I suddenly need some kind of bullshit protection? Who the fuck was that guy?"

 

Bobby looked over at Sam. "You wanna tell him?"

 

Sam shook his head. "No."

 

Dean frowned at Sam, especially when the kid wouldn't look at him. "What the fuck is going on, Sam? Tell me right now or I'll kick your ass so hard you won't be able to start that new job of yours for at least a month, if not longer."

 

"The bloodline of Cain is special in that anyone in it can be the vessel of an angel," Bobby said. "Specifically, the archangels."

 

Dean blinked and turned to look at his boss. "Excuse me? Archangels?"

 

"Yes. Archangels. You know, God's first kids, the bigwigs upstairs?" Bobby said. "Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphael?"

 

"Right, except Lucifer had a bitch fit and ended up in Hell," Dean said, sipping at his glass. "What the fuck does that have to do with us?"

 

"Everything," Sam said. "Dean, I know you're not stupid, but you've read the lore on Lucifer. End of the world, apocalypse, four horsemen-"

 

"You seriously aren't buying into this," Dean snapped, turning to look at Bobby. "You're telling me that the apocalypse is happening, Sam and I are, are, the fucking descendants of Cain and, to top all of that off, we're supposed to be vessels for archangels!"

 

Bobby smiled at him and took another few messy swallows from the bottle. "You ready for the worst of the news?"

 

Dean tightened his hand around the glass and then put it down, giving Bobby a flat stare. "You want to tell me what could be worse than the end of the goddamn world?"

 

Bobby looked at Sam and then to Dean. "It's your father's fault."

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Dean stared at Bobby for what had to be a minute in complete silence. He opened his mouth and cleared his throat. "Dad died more than a year ago. Want to tell me what the fuck you're talking about?"

 

"Your father made a Crossroads deal," Bobby said, taking another gulp from the bottle. "For the name of the demon that killed your Mom."

 

"No," Dean whispered, staring at him. "He fucking promised you Bobby, he promised that he would never go after the bastard again. After what we found out about old yellow eyes, we had-"

 

"I know," Bobby snapped, staring at him. "You don't think I know all of that? He went and did it anyways. Got himself one year to live, and he got the name of the demon."

 

Dean shook his head, rubbing at his face. "Dad was alive a year ago, everything was fine and then-"

 

"His debt came due," Bobby said, his voice quiet as he looked at both boys. "I wouldn't believe it myself, but-"

 

"Bobby," Sam interrupted. "What you're suggesting-"

 

Bobby held up his hand to the both of them. "Let me finish. You both have to let me finish and understand how fucking hard this is for me to accept. We've never faced anything like this before, there is no protocol for this, and right now, we have to do everything in our power to prevent the end of the goddamn world. So you are both going to listen to me and then you are going to do what I fucking tell you because the fate of the world hangs in the damn balance. Understood?"

 

Sam snapped his mouth shut and nodded, looking down at the carpet of Bobby's office. "Yes sir."

 

Dean stared at Bobby, fisting his hands in the fabric of his pants. "What happened?"

 

Bobby looked at the both of them and took a deep breath. "His debt came due. Hellhounds came for him, as they do for anyone who makes a Crossroads deal."

 

Dean flinched. "And?"

 

"Your father was tortured in Hell," Bobby said, staring at the both of them.

 

Sam licked his lips and tried to focus on what Bobby was telling him. "Then what? There's a then. That's kicked all of this off."

 

"Yes," Bobby said. "Angels rescued him. Were calling him the righteous man. The one who would be the vessel of Michael in the battle against Lucifer."

 

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" Dean asked, looking up at Bobby.

 

Bobby smirked. "Because there always is one. But your Dad isn't the Righteous Man. Something went wrong. Fate has gone off course. The bloodline didn't come down from your father, boys."

 

"It came from Mom," Sam breathed, staring at Bobby. "The Campbell bloodline. That's who has it, isn't it?"

 

Bobby nodded at Sam. "Yeah. One of the oldest hunting families in the business, of whom there aren't many left, now. You're her descendants."

 

Dean stared down at his hands. "What does that mean for Dad?"

 

"He's dead," Bobby said, his voice flat. "And he's staying dead. He's of no use to the angels, and they are furious that they do not have the right man. They need Dean."

 

Dean swallowed, flinching again, looking over at Sam. "So, if Sam is-"

 

"The vessel of Lucifer," Sam said, raising his eyes to look at Dean. "That makes you Michael."

 

"Correct," Bobby drawled, taking one more gulp from the bottle before putting it away under his desk. It was too expensive to be guzzling like five dollar booze. "Now, with that in mind, and a truly epic showdown not that far ahead of us, we have to figure out a way to erase what destiny has planned."

 

"What's the plan?" Dean asked, looking up at Bobby. "What are we trying to stop?"

 

"Michael," Bobby said, pointing to Dean. "Fighting against Lucifer," he pointed to Sam. "To bring paradise for the angels to Earth, or Hell on Earth for demons."

 

Dean's mouth went dry and he clenched his jaw. "Us? Against each other?"

 

"Yeah," Bobby said, looking between the two of them. "However, that also means the extinction of the entire human race. So we need a new plan."

 

Sam and Dean blinked.

 

Bobby stood up and walked over to the wall of the room. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and sliced his palm open. He carefully drew a symbol on the wall and pressed his hand to the center of it, causing a bright flash and a shout from the corner of the room.

 

Dean jumped off the edge of the desk and glared at the corner of the room. "What the fuck was that?"

 

"That was an eavesdropping angel who was making sure I played along. But they didn't account for the fact that I have dealt with angels before," Bobby said, walking back to his desk, pulling out a roll of bandages, before starting to wrap his hand. "We don't have much time before he goes bitching to his superiors."

 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Bobby and started to grin. "You have a plan."

 

"Yeah," Bobby said. " _Stall_. Right now that's the best thing we can do until we find another fucking answer. In order for the angels to possess you, no matter who they are, you have to give your willing consent. You have to say the word yes to them. Saying it under duress counts, so if you are caught and captured, they can torture it out of you."

 

Dean straightened his back. "I never will."

 

"Neither will I," Sam agreed, looking at Dean.

 

"Right. I know that. But torture by an angel and a demon is a whole different ballgame than the shit done by humans. Now, that's one thing we have going for us. Another thing is that Lucifer isn't technically free, yet. There's seals on his cage. In order to keep his ass locked up in hell, we need to keep it sealed."

 

"How many?" Sam asked.

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Six hundred and sixty-six. That number ain't associated with him for no reason."

 

"Of fucking course. How many does the bureau have a hand on?" Dean asked.

 

"Tapping all contingents across the globe in a world-level emergency? About two hundred and fifty seven."

 

"How many need to be broken to open the cage?" Sam asked, looking at Bobby.

 

"Sixty-six," Bobby said, his face grim.

 

"Jesus," Dean swore, looking between all of them.

 

Bobby held up his hands. "I'm working on that side of it. But I need you two to get the hell away from me and go off-grid. I'll contact you on burner emails when I can. But you need to get out of here. That angel-"

 

"Angel?" Dean snapped.

 

"The guy in the trenchcoat," Bobby growled. "Look, we have to play along with the angels until I can figure out what their end game is, because it sure as hell isn't keeping Lucifer locked up. If it was, they'd be willing to help with the seals, and they aren't. So play along with this angel, and let him protect the both of you!"

 

"Both?" Sam asked, looking at Bobby.

 

Bobby's face fell. "Your promotion is on hold, Sam. You're still going to get it, but it's going to wait until all of this shit has settled down and I can find a way to keep you both safe with all of this mess going on."

 

Dean blew out a breath and looked at the ceiling. "Then what the hell do you suggest?"

 

"You're going to operate on your own out of the Kansas branch office you found. It's been ready for some time, but I've been keeping it in my back pocket," Bobby said. "On all official records, it's going to remain unusable."

 

Sam frowned and carefully rocked the bourbon in his glass. "We can't trust this angel who is supposed to be protecting us, Bobby. If we can't trust him, how the hell are we going to be able to do anything?"

 

Bobby frowned and squinted at the corner of the room. "We're almost out of time. He knows that you are on a stretch assignment, courtesy of me. Just make shit up as you go along from there, and for fuck's sake, try to play nice. He is going to keep you safe from demons and anyone else who wants to drag your asses to hell to use as leverage against the angels."

 

"Well that's comforting," Dean drawled, pushing his hand through his hair. "Anything else we need to know?"

 

"If the seals are broken, Sam has to go underground," Bobby said, looking at him. "Lucifer will come for him, immediately."

 

Sam swallowed, hard. "That angel, that demon, what they called me-"

 

"Hey," Dean growled, reaching out to kick Sam in the leg. "You look at me," he ordered.

 

Sam's eyes shot up to find Dean's.

 

"Are people good or evil?" Dean asked him.

 

Sam blinked and frowned. "It depends on-"

 

"Exactly," Dean interrupted. "It _depends_. You aren't pre-destined to be evil. You're you, and you're always going to be you. We're going to say fuck you to this pre-ordained bullshit and we are going to find a way around it. Understand?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said, dropping his eyes down to the floor, downing the rest of his drink. "We go off-grid tonight, Bobby?"

 

"Yes," Bobby said, walking over to the desk, pulling out an old, tattered notebook. "Here. Take this with you. He would have wanted you to have it, and it'll help."

 

Dean took the notebook from Bobby and traced his fingertips over the cover. "This is Dad's hunting notebook."

 

Bobby nodded. "You bet your ass it is. You're looking at the foundation of the Research department right there. We started with what was in that book and built our way up from there. Use it, since you aren't going to have us."

 

Sam took the notebook from his brother. "You got it, Bobby. You know how to get ahold of us?"

 

"Yes, now get your asses out of here. I'm about to have a contingent of pissed off angels coming down to rain holy fire on my ass for kicking their spy out of the room," Bobby said. "The angel you're working with, his name is Castiel."

 

Dean frowned. "Cas-teel?"

 

"Castiel," Bobby repeated, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure that he's just going to love you. Now get going."

 

Dean slid off the edge of the desk and stretched. "We'll be back before you know it old man. You've got a promotion that you owe Sam, after all!"

 

Sam followed Dean out of the room and turned to look back at Bobby. "Keep them safe."

 

Bobby nodded at Sam. "You do the same for your brother, you hear me?"

 

"I heard that!" Dean shouted.

 

Sam nodded to Bobby and followed Dean out of the building, blowing out a hard breath. "You know, I'd absolutely take another salt and burn over the end of the world right now."

 

Dean laughed, heading for Baby, keeping his gun in his hand, just in case. "You and I both, Sammy. You and I both. But the end of the world is what we've got, so let's let the old man do his damn job."

 

"Where are we going to go?" Sam asked.

 

Dean striped off his tie and his jacket, throwing them into the back seat of the Impala. "The first place we are going is home, because hell if I am going on a road trip without my shit. You need to pick up anything from your place?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "We'd better get going. It's possible they might have beaten us there."

 

"Not if you've kept up your salt lines," Dean said, raising his eyebrows at Sam, glad when he got a grin in response. "That's my boy."

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Picking up his life from the apartment took all of ten minutes.  Dean stuffed everything into the all-purpose duffel he'd never bothered to get rid of after he had started working at the bureau and shoved what he needed into it.  He reassessed the room a second time and stretched, waving to the room.  "See you the fuck later!" he called to no one in particular. 

 

The trip to Sam's took longer, but only because Sam refused to leave without five different kinds of haircare products. 

 

"I'm telling you, Sam, 3-in-1, that shit is your best friend," Dean said, adjusting his shoulder holster.  He couldn't wait to peel the damn thing off later tonight. 

 

"Fuck off," Sam snapped, sticking a hand into his mattress, pulling out a wad of cash.  "I like using different products, and don't think I didn't see you stuffing four different issues of Busty Asian Beauties into yours." 

 

Dean smirked.  "The finer things in life can't always be found on the internet," he drawled, looking around the room.  "Bring your jacket, you're going to want it," he said, grinning when Sam threw it at him a second later.  "Don't bitch at me about it, you know you won't want to try to find another one in size gigantor." 

 

"While he is abnormally large for his age, your brother is not what one would call ' _gigantic_ '," A voice said from the room. 

 

Dean had his knife out and stabbed into the shoulder of the man standing behind him before he'd managed to get half of the sentence out.  The man in the trenchcoat only blinked at him and then at the knife in his shoulder.  It took Dean a belated few seconds, but he realized he had just stabbed an angel.  _Shit_.  They were supposed to be playing nice with these fuckers. 

 

"Uh," he managed.  "Sorry.  Habit.  Don't sneak up on us," he grumbled, yanking out the knife quickly, reaching to press his hand to a wound, but there was none when he looked.  Dean glanced at the blade and saw it was completely clean as well.  Well, if shit wasn't freaky enough today already, why not just add a few more things. 

 

"Apologies," Castiel said.  "However, it was urgent that I find you and begin protecting you immediately.  There are three demons who are waiting outside this apartment building to assail you." 

 

Dean tensed and looked over at Sam.  "Hurry.  They'll find a way around the salt lines eventually," he ordered. 

 

Sam nodded and began throwing things into the duffel after glancing at them.  His laptop bag was packed and ready to go a few seconds later and he nodded at his brother.  He looked to the angel and frowned.  "Planning on calling me an abomination again?"

 

Castiel frowned and looked at the tall human.  "No.  Director Singer has explained that it was wrong of me to do so." 

 

"Good," Sam said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.  "Because I wouldn't be afraid to start researching how to kill an angel." 

 

"Hey, hey," Dean snapped, stepping between the both of them.  "Let's quit with the threats at the moment.  Everyone needs to play nice and be friends right now, so we can worry about getting back to insulting each other later." 

 

Castiel nodded and looked out the window.  "We need to leave.  What is your method of transportation?" 

 

Dean jerked his head towards the car out front.  "Chevy Impala out front.  She's warded, demons won't be able to go near her." 

 

"Yes," Castiel said, tilting his head.  He reached out for Dean and Sam and scowled when they flinched away from him.  "I am going to transport you into the car now, so we may avoid the demons following you." 

 

"How about no," Dean snapped, stepping back another few feet.  "We'll exorcise the bastards, since those humans didn't have any choice in being possessed and _then_ we'll get going." 

 

"Unacceptable," Castiel said, frowning at Dean Winchester.  "You are too precious to risk being injured fighting demons." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm a precious commodity.  This is my fucking job.  If you don't like it, take it up with Director Singer," he said, pushing past the angel, going to the front door.  He could tell that Sam was following closely behind him and smirked when it didn't look like the angel was going to follow. 

 

Last thing he needed was an angel perching on his shoulder.  He didn't need some guardian, he and Sam had been doing this sort of thing long before they were old enough to be hired by the bureau. 

 

The scent of sulfur hit him the second he stepped out of the apartment and he gagged, his gun in his hands.  "Fuckers are close, Sam," he growled.  "Do me a favor and don't stumble over the exorcism this time." 

 

"Oh fuck off," Sam snapped, following closely behind Dean.  "Twelve o'clock and six o'clock.  Likely trying to herd us to wherever the third one is.  Keep moving," he said. 

 

"Gotta admit," Dean said, lengthening his stride.  "Sometimes your height really does come in handy." 

 

"You know," Sam said, reaching out to punch Dean in the side.  "If this weren't the end of the world shit, I would trip your ass and leave you to the damn demons." 

 

Dean snorted and lifted the gun as the demon in front of them broke out into a sprint.  "Get that exorcism ready-"

 

A flash of light in front of them had Dean and Sam stopping. 

 

The sight of a tan trenchcoat made Dean clench the gun tighter and he scowled as the angel pressed his hand to the forehead of the demon.  "What the hell did you do to her?" 

 

Castiel didn't answer, merely appeared behind them and repeated the press of his hand to the forehead of a demon, causing a bright flash of light. 

 

"What the fuck man!" Dean snapped.  "We had things under control!  Did you kill them?" 

 

"No," Castiel said, turning in a slow circle.  "The demons have been excised and sent back to hell.  _Permanently_.  I shall teach you a far more effective version of an exorcism.  An angelic one.  The human one is too lengthy and ineffective against more powerful demons." 

 

Sam blinked and wanted to ask Castiel precisely what this more effective method of exorcism was, but Dean was already by the Impala, throwing his bag into the back seat.  "Where's the last one that you mentioned?" 

 

"Gone," Castiel said, frowning.  "Likely to tell his superiors that you now have the protection of an angel.  I had wished to prevent that." 

 

Dean climbed into the car and started the engine, relaxing at the sound of Baby's purr.  "Sam, get in the damn car, we need to get the hell out of here before more of them come back!" 

 

"Your brother is correct," Castiel said, looking around.  "I would suggest hurrying.  I will find you both again soon.  I must report this development to my superiors." 

 

Sam realized, after Castiel disappeared and the people on the street were starting to wake up, that he had never bothered to say thank you.  Dean honked the horn behind him and he slid into the front seat, ignoring the scowl from his brother as they gunned it out of town.  He settled into the familiar leather of the Impala and took a deep breath. 

 

"You okay?" Dean grunted glancing over at Sam. 

 

Sam thought about answering that, but the last thing he was was okay.  "How would you feel if you just found out you were the vessel for the devil?" 

 

Dean grinned.  "Like you need a goddamn drink." 

 

Sam snorted out a laugh.  "You fucking got that right." 

 

~!~

 

Dean looked over at his brother sprawled in the front seat and couldn't help a smile.  Sam had dozed off thirty or so miles back, Zeppelin was crooning low and gentle on the stereo and Dean hadn't felt like he was home like this in years.  He turned to face the road in front of him and relaxed.  No matter what, they had each other, and now that they were going off-grid, all they really had was each other, and some angel who seemed determined to protect him for reasons unknown.  He'd have to figure that out. 

 

"Hm," he grunted, realizing that he should have had Bobby teach them that spell on how to banish eavesdropping angels, especially if they were invisible.  That sort of shit came in really fucking handy when you needed it.  He glanced over at Sam who settled a little better against the door.  Dean couldn't help grinning.  Sam, the open road, and the Impala?  This was heaven right here, no need for pearly gates and choirs of dick angels. 

 

He grinned and settled into the lull of driving down an empty highway, tapping the beat of the music out against the steering wheel. 

 

Some things didn't change, and he was damn glad that despite the years they had put in at the bureau, and the fact that Sam wasn't willing to go on road trips like this with him anymore, that some things still felt exactly as they were supposed to. 

 

Dean didn't let himself start looking for a cheap motel to crash at until he had put six hours between headquarters and where they were at.  Even he was starting to drag after being up for more than thirty hours straight.  He yawned and pulled into the rat motel and smiled when Sam jerked himself awake. 

 

Sam looked up at the hotel and scowled.  "I haven't missed this." 

 

Dean snorted and climbed out of the car.  "I'll get us a room.  Grab the bags," he said, stretching and heading for the front door.  He adjusted his jacket and kept his weapons tucked carefully away. 

 

The clerk was sleeping and managed to wake up when he walked in the door.  Dean rolled his eyes and walked up, getting them a room with two queens.  Some stuff really, _really_ didn't change, and this was definitely one of them. 

 

He stepped out of the front door and slammed into what felt like a brick wall, but wearing an ugly-ass trenchcoat.  Dean's hand immediately went for his gun and he scowled at the angel in front of him.  The bastard didn't move, either, standing in front of him with his head tilted, like he was the most fascinating creature in the universe.  "What?" he growled. 

 

"Humans require a minimum of eight hours of sleep to function appropriately by their design.  I will keep watch over you while you sleep." 

 

Dean shuddered and glared at the angel.  The last thing he wanted was someone watching over him while he slept.  He didn't know if he still had nightmares, but he wasn't about to figure that out in front of anyone other than Sam, if he did.  "I don't think so.  And also, dude, back the hell up.  Haven't you ever heard of personal space?"

 

Castiel tilted his head and stared at Dean in confusion.  "No.  What is personal space?" 

 

Dean gaped at the angel and thought about trying to explain it.  He shook his head and stepped around the wall of tan and headed for where Sam was leaning against the Impala.  He didn't have time for any of this bullshit.  "Too fucking tired to explain tonight.  Hit me up for that tomorrow, when I've had a chance to sleep." 

 

"Very well," Castiel said.

 

Dean bit down the urge to jump when the angel reappeared next to him, walking in stride with him.  He stepped a foot away from the other man and scowled when the man followed.  "What the hell is your deal?" 

 

Castiel squinted at Dean Winchester.  "It is my job to protect you." 

 

"And since when does protecting me include hovering over me like a worried mother hen?"

 

"I do not understand why you are comparing me to a hen," Castiel said. 

 

Dean sighed and stared at the sky.  "I fucking hate you, just so you know," he growled at no one in particular, stopping beside Sam.  "Here, your turn to reason with the creepy angel that we don't need someone watching over us while we sleep." 

 

Sam blinked in confusion between his brother and the angel standing behind him.  He sighed and turned to Castiel, holding out his hand.  "Excuse Dean, he's fucking exhausted and never wants to admit how grumpy he gets when he is tired." Sam tried for a smile.  "My name is Sam Winchester, which I know that you know, and you're, Castiel, right?" 

 

Castiel looked down at Sam's hand and carefully lifted his own, clasping Sam's hand in his.  He'd seen humans perform this gesture multiple times.  It was one of good will and acceptance.  He squinted when Sam pumped their joined hands up and down twice before releasing.  Director Singer had not done that.  He would need to observe and understand.  "Yes, that is correct.  My name is Castiel.  I am the angel of Thursday, and I have been assigned the role of your protector." 

 

"How the hell did you get stuck with shit duty?" Dean asked, taking his bag from Sam, leading the way to the room.  Maybe if they figured out a way to make the angel bored they would be able to get him to leave them the hell alone. 

 

"I volunteered for the honor of protecting you, Dean.  You are the Righteous Man, and-"

 

"Nope!" Dean said, cutting Castiel off mid-sentence.  "We are not talking about any pre-ordained bullshit this late in the night.  We can save all of that for after I have slept, had the largest cup of coffee I can possibly manage, and eaten something for breakfast." 

 

Castiel frowned as Dean and Sam walked into one of the rooms on the ground floor.  He turned to look around the parking lot.  He could sense no malicious intent nearby.  The Winchesters would be safe for the time being.  He moved to enter the room, only to find the door slammed in his face.  In a blink, he was inside the room, staring intently at Dean. 

 

Dean managed not to flinch back when Castiel ignored the shut door and appeared directly in front of him again.  "What the fuck man?  Didn't I say nothing else until I've slept and had breakfast?" 

 

"Someone needs to watch over you while you are sleeping," Castiel said, his voice matter of fact.  "I do not require sleep and therefore would be the best for this requirement while you allow your bodies to recover." 

 

"Well I don't want to sleep with you hovering over me!" Dean snapped, glaring at the angel, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

"Hey, hey," Sam said, stepping between the both of them.  "Castiel, Dean and I are exhausted.  We were on a hunt, had been up all day, found out what happened, drove the remainder of the day to get back to headquarters, only to find out everything and then Dean drove us here." 

 

"Precisely," Castiel said with a firm nod.  "You need rest and time to recover.  By watching over you-"

 

"You'll ensure that we get neither of those things," Sam said, interrupting the angel.  He stared at the blue eyes that immediately snapped to his face and took a deep breath.  "Look, I get that you want to help, I understand, I do, but you need to let us sleep here, without you hovering over us.  You can meet us again in the morning and we'll start all over again." 

 

Castiel squinted at him and looked around.  "This room does not provide adequate protection against any that would attack you while you sleep." 

 

"That's why we have salt lines," Sam said, pulling the salt out of his duffel.  "We'll be fine, I promise." 

 

Dean looked around his brother at the angel and stalked to the bed, grabbing a shirt out of his duffel, along with a pair of boxers and stalked to the bathroom.  "I am taking a shower!  I want the angel gone when I get back, I don't care if we're throwing him bodily out of the damn room!" 

 

Sam sighed when Dean slammed the door shut behind him and turned to look at Castiel again.  "He's not mad at you.  He's mad at the situation," he tried to explain.  

 

"This _situation_ , was you call it, was preordained by God thousands of millennia before humans were ever a thought," Castiel said, staring at Sam Winchester.  "It is not a situation.  It was inevitable.  It simply _is_." 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Sam stared at Castiel for a long time, but the angel didn't appear to be wavering from the stare down.  He took a deep breath and tried to focus.  "If that's the case, then why didn't things happen the way they were supposed to?  Why wasn't my father the Righteous Man?  Why didn't he break the first seal?" 

 

Bright blue eyes widened and stared at him in surprise.  Sam grinned.  "Dean's never been a fan of research or lore.  He's brilliant, but that's always been my thing.  The second Bobby told me what was going on, I've been reading up on all of it.  The angels want Michael to win and bring heaven to earth." 

 

"Lucifer must be destroyed," Castiel said, staring at Sam.  He tilted his head, trying to picture the grace of the Morningstar in this human in front of him.  The images clashed and did not fit.  He frowned and brought himself back to the present.  "Whatever is required for that to happen, must happen, as it has been-"

 

"Well," Sam interrupted, smiling a little bit.  "Dean and I have no intention of playing along in our little roles, for either Michael or Lucifer.  If it comes down to that, we'll say fuck you to the both of them." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Why?  You would not see the Devil defeated?" 

 

Sam took a deep breath and smiled at Castiel.  "Not at the expense of the entire human race.  There is nothing that's worth that." 

 

"You are certain of this?" Castiel said, frowning deeper, his head tilted as he studied Sam intently. 

 

"As sure as I am that if you aren't gone when Dean finishes up his shower in two minutes, he will make your life as difficult as possible as our protector," Sam said, a grin starting on his face. 

 

Castiel didn't say anything and instead turned to look at the walls of the room.  He pressed his palm to one of them and symbols immediately etched them on the wall.  He ensured that the protection lines were unbroken and that the Winchester brothers would be safe for the night.  "These will be better than any salt line." 

 

Sam looked up at the symbols and recognized the language in a moment.  "That's Enochian, isn't it?  The angelic language?" 

 

"Yes," Castiel said, looking up and over the spells once again.  "Do not touch any of them tonight.  If you will not allow me to keep you safe, then at least allow the wards to do what they must." 

 

"Can you teach me?" Sam asked, hearing the shower shut off.  He looked at Castiel and grinned.  "Get going, unless you want to live through Hell when he gets out." 

 

Castiel's gaze was solemn as he stared at Sam Winchester.  "I already have." 

 

Sam was left blinking in surprise when Castiel disappeared.  Dean stepped out of the shower in a cloud of steam and Sam saw him instantly relax when he realized that they were alone. 

 

"Dickface finally get a clue and leave?" Dean asked, rubbing his hand through his hair, lifting the towel to dry off his neck. 

 

"No," Sam said, looking up at the symbols around the room.  He went to his bag and pulled out John's journal, flipping to a blank page in the back.  "Look at the walls.  He offered us his own version of protection for the evening, since we refused to take his." 

 

Dean scowled and glared at the symbols.  "How do we know this shit is actually going to work?  For all we know it could be a homing beacon for something else that is now on the way to come take a fucking bite out of us!" 

 

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, pulling a pen out of his laptop bag, his eyes intent on the symbols.  "Because I can read a little bit of this Enochian, Dean.  There's nothing malicious here, and if we can teach this back to the others-"

 

"Fuck, you're a nerd," Dean said with a snort, pulling on a t-shirt before dropping his duffel to the side of the bed.  He fell into the sheets with a groan, taking a deep breath.  " _Heaven_." 

 

"If you think these mattresses are heaven, then you seriously need to buy a new one," Sam said with a laugh, stretching out on his own bed. 

 

"You aren't taking a shower?" Dean asked, opening one eye to stare at Sam. 

 

Sam shook his head.  "I'll go for a run in the morning and get us some breakfast.  We'll be fine, and I'll start scoping the area to see if there's anything remotely resembling a case near Kansas." 

 

Dean nodded and shut his eyes again.  "Put up the salt lines." 

 

"Dean," Sam protested.  "We don't need the-"

 

"I'm not trusting the damn angel who says that his hoodoo is going to prevent anyone else from getting in here.  Lay the damn lines." 

 

Sam pushed himself up and off the bed and started to do as Dean had asked, carefully laying the lines along the doorway, and windowsill.  It didn't take long for him to finish and he crawled back into bed to finish sketching, Dean already snoring away.  He rolled his eyes and flipped to the beginning of John's notebook, opening it slowly. 

 

Might as well see if there was anything useful in here.  It'd been years since he looked at the damn thing.  He and Dean had practically had it memorized cover to cover when they were younger.  But who knew, maybe there was something that they had missed because they hadn't needed it back then. 

 

Sam took a deep breath and started to read. 

 

~!~

 

Dean woke up when the sun hit his eyes and he scowled, flipping over on the bed, glad that at least the pillows weren't horrid.  It was far from the worst night's sleep he'd ever had, but it hadn't been up there with the best either.  Which meant that Sam probably knew about the damn nightmares now. 

 

"You are awake earlier than I expected." 

 

Dean groaned, his whole body tensing.  So much for a slow wakeup where he could take his time and try to make sure he wasn't too sore anywhere after being tossed around yesterday.  "What the hell are you doing here watching me sleep?" 

 

"Sam left the building.  You were unguarded.  I deemed it pertinent to ensure that you-"

 

Dean sighed and pushed himself upright.  "Sam left the building because we both require coffee to function.  I bet that he took the Impala too, right?" 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Yes, that is correct, but he-"

 

"No buts," Dean said, waving at the angel.  "So tell me again why you were here watching me sleep like the stalker you are?" 

 

"I am not stalking you," Castiel said.  "I am ensuring that you are safe when there is no one else here to protect you." 

 

Dean sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair.  This was going to get old quicker than quick if he didn't nip this shit in the bud right now.  "Thought that's what all the hoodoo on the walls was going to do." 

 

Castiel looked up at the wards that he had put into place and frowned.  "While they are comprehensive, they would not protect you from a human, were they to kick down the door and fire a gun at you." 

 

Dean snorted.  "Well hurry up and get on creating a ward for that, then." 

 

"That is not possible, I cannot create a ward to understand when one human intends to cause another human bodily-"

 

"Woah, woah, _woah_ ," Dean protested, sitting upright, glaring at Castiel.  "Take a joke there, Cas.  I was fucking kidding, because you're looking so damn Johnny on the Spot, eager to take down anything that causes me harm.  Feeling a little over-protected here." 

 

"I would prefer over-protection than you coming to harm, Dean Winchester," Castiel said and frowned.  "What did you call me?" 

 

"Cas," Dean said, repeating it, looking at the angel.  "Yeah, your full name is something like Casteel, right?" 

 

" _Castiel_ ," the angel corrected.  "I would prefer-"

 

"I don't give a shit," Dean said through a yawn, stretching as he stood up.  "Your name is a mouthful.  You're going to have a nickname and you are going to deal with it."  He scratched his ass as he grabbed his shaving kit and walked to the bathroom. 

 

Castiel frowned as Dean Winchester walked away from him and deeper into the hotel room.  He waited as the sounds of the sink running came and a slow buzzing noise started up in the room.  In an instant, he was beside Dean in the bathroom, staring at the device by his face. 

 

Dean froze and slowly turned his head to look at the angel who was staring at his electric razor like it was the heart of all evil.  "Uh.  Cas?  Why the _hell_ are you in the bathroom?" 

 

"How do you know that device is safe to use?" Castiel said, reaching out for it. 

 

Dean immediately pulled it out of the reach of the angel and glared at him.  "Cas, it's fine.  Get the hell out of the bathroom and let me finish my morning routine before you start this shit.  You want to go pick on someone, go find Sam and ask him how far away we are from the Kansas bunker that we're headed to." 

 

"Bunker?" Castiel said, tilting his head.  "Director Singer indicated that you were to continue traveling until he gave you the order to do anything else-"

 

"Yeah," Dean said.  "He did say that.  But he also said to make sure we have a home base.  Living on the road is going to burn Sam out, and he needs a place to do his research on all of the shit going on.  Bunker is the perfect place for it, and not many people know about it." 

 

"Is it warded?" Castiel asked, his face twisting into a frown.  He would need to attempt to find this place later, ensure that it would be safe from any demons who tried to come after the two brothers.  "I shall need to ensure that it is up to appropriate-"

 

"Hell no," Dean growled, turning to glare at the angel, pushing a finger into the center of his chest.  "Let me make one thing clear, here, buddy.  You are here because Bobby told me that you had to be here.  You are not here because I want you here.  You got that?  So I make the rules, and you shut your damn mouth." 

 

Castiel scowled and Dean was proud for a moment, glad that he had finally managed to ruffle the angel, but it only led to more eyes being squinted at him in confusion.  "Would you stop fucking looking at me like that?" 

 

Castiel blinked.  "Like what?" 

 

"Like you're trying to figure me out, or something!" Dean snapped, turning his attention back to the mirror as he flipped on the shaver again.  He took a deep breath and focused on getting rid of his stubble.  After a few days on the road he'd give up on bothering, but right now, it was a bonafide excuse to ignore the angel standing behind him in the hotel room. 

 

The angel didn't say anything else, and Dean finished up in the bathroom, pretending that he hadn't had some fucking awkward conversation this morning with the jerk.  "Did you bring me coffee?" 

 

"Coffee, breakfast, _and_ pie," Sam said, grinning as he set the bags down on the table. 

 

Dean perked up and immediately strode for the bag on the table.  "Pie?  What kind?  Knew that you were my favorite brother for a reason!" 

 

"They had cherry, so that's what I picked up," Sam said, opening his own takeaway container, smiling at the omelet that was waiting for him.  "Castiel, I didn't get you anything, I wasn't sure what you wanted, but I can-"

 

"I don't require food," Castiel said, frowning.  "Are those meals sufficient to give yourselves the nutrients that you require for a-"

 

Dean burst out laughing, against his will, and took a long gulp of his coffee.  "Do you see what I've been dealing with all morning?" he asked Sam, gesturing to the angel. 

 

Sam snorted and pulled up his computer, flipping it open and focusing on it.  "Well, he is here to protect you, after all, so it's only fair that he focuses all of his protection-attention on you." 

 

Dean kicked Sam's shin under the table, smirking when he gave a grunt of pain.  Fucker deserved it for comments like that. 

 

"Please do not injure each other," Castiel said, reaching out to touch Dean on the shoulder.  He froze when touching the bare skin of Dean's arm sent fire racing through his grace.  He contained himself a moment too late and pulled his hand away from Dean's skin, a handprint on the pale skin where there had not been one before. 

 

He pulled his hand away and stared at it in shock.  His grace had reacted to Dean in a manner completely unfit for a human.  Castiel scowled.  "I will return," he announced, disappearing. 

 

Dean looked down at his arm and forced himself to take a deep breath.  He closed his eyes and tried to forget the white hot burn that had been unlike anything he had ever felt before and opened his eyes to stare at his brother.  "What, the _fuck_ just happened?" 

 

Sam stared at the red handprint and opened his mouth to respond before he shrugged at his brother.  "I have no idea what the hell that was, nor do I know how the hell he just left a fucking handprint on you." 

 

Dean bit down a groan and stalked over to his duffel bag, pulling out a long-sleeved plaid shirt, slipping it on a second later.  "We are not talking about this." 

 

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes as Dean sat back down in front of his pie and started to work his way through it.  "I don't know if you're going to get away with not talking about this with the angel.  I mean, he did just-"

 

"Don't, fucking, _say_ it," Dean snarled, finishing off the last bite of his pie with a vicious movement.  "Just find us a case, because I fucking need to kill something right now."

 

Sam hummed _'touched by an angel'_ as he searched on the computer.  It took two renditions for Dean to figure out what the hell he was humming, but it was worth it when Dean turned bright red and threw the takeout boxes at him.  Sam dissolved into laughter and focused on the computer again as Dean stalked into the bathroom. He'd deserved that for all of the hair product comments. 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Dean and Sam waited until checkout to see if the angel would show again.  He didn't, so they decided to head for the case in Minnesota.  Thankfully it wasn't kelpies (they'd had enough of kelpies to last them twenty years or so), and instead it looked like a Wendigo.  Dean had been grim when he'd announced it, but all of the signs were there. 

 

"It'll be just like old times, us trekking around in the woods," Sam said, looking over at Dean, rolling his eyes.  "Pretending we aren't drawing Anasi symbols every ten feet or so, carrying around molotov cocktails-"

 

"Oh shut up," Dean grumbled.  "We need to try to save those campers if we can, and you know it." 

 

Sam went quiet and thought for a few minutes about their shadow, that had decided not follow them into the car.  He was pretty sure that Dean would lose it if the angel ever decided to come near his precious Impala.  "We should ask Castiel for help." 

 

Dean stared at Sam and then snapped his eyes back to the road.  "What the hell do you mean we should ask the baby angel for help?" 

 

Sam snorted.  "He's not a baby." 

 

"How the fuck do you know that?  We could have a babysitter that’s a toddler compared to other angels and we wouldn't have any idea," Dean snapped. 

 

"Because he's the head of a garrison in heaven.  He said as much.  He's got superiors, which means that he's not one of the archangels, but I think that he's more than you're giving him credit for," Sam said.  "I bet that he'd help us if we asked." 

 

"We are not asking him for help," Dean snapped, glaring at his brother.  "Have you forgotten that they are the enemy?  Trying to end the world?" 

 

Sam glared at Dean.  "No, you fucknut.  I'm trying to do what Bobby told us to do, which is play along until we can figure out another option.  Maybe if you start talking to the bastard and not scowling whenever he comes within thirty feet of you he'd start talking to you and we could get some hints on where we need to start with unraveling all of this shit." 

 

It wasn't often that Dean really hated his little brother.  The only times it really happened were when Sam was too damn smart for his own good.  And this was definitely one of those times, and he couldn't even complain about it, because Sam was right, and he had been more of a dick than was necessary.  And when it came to saving the world, if it came down to whether or not he was friends with a fucking angel, they would lose.  _Hard_. 

 

"Does that sigh mean that you are actually going to start tolerating Castiel?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.  Usually he only got a sigh that big if he won an argument, but Dean hadn't said anything yet. 

 

"We'll see if he knows anything about Wendigos," Dean allowed, frowning at Sam.  "In the meantime, you should review what Dad has in his journal on them.  They're mean fuckers and we need to be as ready as possible for what we're going up against." 

 

"Why the hell do they always pick Minnesota," Sam grumbled, settling back into the driver's seat, watching the flat plains as Dean opened up the engine and let the Impala roar. 

 

Dean huffed.  "Surprised you don't know this.  It's where the Wendigo myth started.  I know you know it's an Anansi creature and they have the symbols to protect against it, but the cannibalism that created these creatures, according to rumor, started there.  Your research department estimates, as big as the state is, there may be between thirty and forty Wendigos that live in the area." 

 

Sam blinked at Dean and stared at him before grinning.  " _Man_." 

 

Dean frowned and looked over at Sam.  "What?  What the hell does that mean?" 

 

"You could have been running the research department ages ago," Sam said, stretching.  "I forget that sometimes, because I like doing the research.  But you know this stuff just as well as I do, and better, in cases like this."  

 

Dean grunted and rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, I suppose.  You're the one with the head for nerdery."

 

Sam reached out and hit Dean in the arm, just light enough to get his attention.  "Don't sell yourself short there, fucktard.  You're smarter than you give yourself credit for." 

 

"Nah," Dean disagreed.  "You're the one with the fancy degree.  I'm the one with the angel perching on my damn shoulder." 

 

"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," Castiel said, his voice echoing from the back seat. 

 

Dean nearly slammed on the breaks, his hands tightening on the wheel as he glared at Sam and then in the rearview mirror at the angel sitting calmly in the middle of the back seat.  "Get the hell out of my car!" 

 

Castiel squinted at him and frowned.  "Why?" 

 

"Because I don't want you in it and that is reason enough!" Dean snapped, glaring at Castiel.  "Get the hell out!" 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "This is far more expedient than re-appearing where you are.  If you were attacked whilst traveling-"

 

"This car is warded," Sam said, glancing at the way his brother's hands were tight on the wheel.  He looked over his shoulder at Castiel.  "In fact, I'm not sure how the hell you managed to get in here in the first place.  I know I updated the wards." 

 

"They are excellent," Castiel said, looking down at the seat, tracing his fingertips along the leather. "However, you are not educated in ways of warding off angels, and any angel, if they wanted, would be able to join you here, as I have." 

 

Dean snorted.  "Does that mean I'm going to get a visit from Michael himself, convincing me to play along with my destiny, be his vessel and defeat Lucifer?" 

 

Castiel shook his head.  "No.  It will not be necessary.  When you say yes, Michael will appear-"

 

"Let's get one thing straight!" Dean snapped, turning around to glare at Castiel after checking to see that they were alone on the road.  "I am never saying yes.  Not _ever_.  Michael and Lucifer can both shove this fight up their respective asses.  It is never going to happen.  Not ever.  Do you understand me?" 

 

Castiel stared at Dean and frowned.  "Why?" 

 

Dean laughed and leaned forward to press his head to the steering wheel.  "Get the hell out, Cas.  I don't fucking want you here." 

 

Silence was his response.  Dean didn't let go of the breath that he had been holding until Sam told him that the angel was gone from the backseat.  He opened his eyes again and focused on the open road in front of him. 

 

"So much for asking for his help against the Wendigo," Sam said, tapping his fingertips against the sill by the window.  "You two seem the get the hell under each other's skin for some reason.  What the hell gives, Dean?" 

 

"I want him gone!" Dean snapped, glaring at Sam.  "We don't fucking need him following us around like this, angels, angels are supposed to be fluffy wings and halo'd bullshit up in heaven." 

 

Sam hummed and opened his eyes, staring at Dean and then out the front window, closing his eyes to allow himself to doze.  "I think you are a little biased towards them, Dean." 

 

Dean scowled and kept his hands on the wheel, holding on as tight as he could, focusing on the road in front of them.  "You can fuck the hell off, Sam, seriously.  I don't need your commentary, and I certainly don't need your approval." 

 

"So dramatic," Sam said, rolling his eyes as he leaned back against the seat.  "What the hell, Dean, just get over it.  We need to play nice, so hurry the hell up and play nice so he doesn't get the wrong idea.  Or do you want to be the one to tell the angels that we've got a different plan?" 

 

"Fuck," Dean grumbled, taking a deep breath as he eyed the sign for Minneapolis.  Sam was right.  He did need to try to play nice, but the fucking angel needed to play along too.  Maybe if he tried to include the angel on some of their cases he would be able to make more of a difference with it.  He just didn't get it, maybe they needed to help with that first. 

 

"When we stop," Dean said, after stewing on it for another fifteen minutes.  "We'll tell Castiel that we could use his help to save these campers." 

 

Sam smiled and opened one of his eyes, looking over at his brother.  "Having a change of heart about Castiel?" 

 

"No," Dean snapped, glaring at Sam's head.  "But the old man as right.  We need to stall, that's the best plan we've got right now.  And in order to do that, we need to make sure we play along.  So we'll do that, and I make no promises about being nice." 

 

"Dean," Sam drawled, the sarcasm overt in his tone.  "No one would ever, _ever_ expect you to be actually nice when working with others.  That's clearly just too much to ask of you, so I don't know why you think we would." 

 

"Oh fuck you," Dean said, glaring at Sam.  He could see the grin that his baby brother was trying to hide after spouting all of that bullshit, but he wasn't buying it.  Except Sam was probably doing it so he didn't have to think about his side of things.  But he wasn't about to start a conversation about their roles in this stupid apocalypse either. 

 

Dean blew out a hard breath and focused on the road.  They'd be in Minnesota in a couple of hours, and then they had a nice long drive north, heading deeper into the forests to find the damn thing.  He made a mental note to see if he still had the fake ranger IDs or if they'd need to pick up the materials for another. 

 

FBI or rangers, one of them would be good for this case.  If they went rangers, the folks in town were less likely to be suspicious and two feds showing up in the middle of nowhere right after campers had disappeared wasn't a good plan either.  So forest rangers it was. 

 

When they got a few hours into the deeper forests of Minnesota, Dean pulled over at a small, but actual decent looking hotel.  It was nearly empty, a hint of the last of winter chill in the air, which meant that weren't likely to have a ton of tourists, or hunters fucking around in the woods. 

 

He got them a room and trudged back to the car, opening the door that Sam was leaning against while he slept, laughing as Sam nearly fell out of the damn car.  Fuck, that would never, ever get old.  "I'm gonna start calling you sleeping beauty as often as you are falling asleep on me there, Sammy." 

 

"It's Sam," Sam snapped, pushing his hand through his hair with a sigh, standing up.  "Don't make me start teasing you about your fucking handprint again, Dean." 

 

Dean pressed a hand to the handprint and rubbed at it absently.  The sting from when he had first gotten it had already faded, but fuck if he couldn't still feel that blinding flash of heat. 

 

"Dean?" Sam asked, staring at his brother as he rubbed at the handprint under his shirt.  He raised an eyebrow when Dean did nothing more than scowl and stalk past him to the hotel room.  Well, now that was _interesting_.  He opened the door and froze at the sight of someone waiting for them, but relaxed after they turned on the light and realized who it was. 

 

"You're going to have to tell us how the hell you find us so quick," Sam said, walking towards the bed furthest from the door.  Dean had insisted on sleeping closest to the door since they were little, and he knew that Dean wasn't about to change the habit any time soon. 

 

Castiel stared at Dean, relieved to see that he was fine and had sustained no injuries from his anger and frustration that he had experienced earlier.  "Your souls." 

 

Dean and Sam blinked, looked at each other and turned to the angel as one.  "What?" 

 

Castiel stared back at them both, his eyes darting between them before settling on Dean Winchester.  "Your souls.  You asked how I find you as quickly as I do.  I find your souls.  It's far easier than attempting to see on any other identifying factor. 

 

Sam opened his mouth and shut it, pushing his hand through his hair as he shook his head.  "You know what, I'm not even going to go there, Castiel, but I'm just going to leave it, because Dean's not going to be able to." 

 

Dean frowned at Castiel and crossed his arms over his chest.  He didn't want to think about how his soul looked to an angel, probably black and twisted from all of the sinning that he had done in his life.  He scowled.  "So what the hell does that mean?  Finding our souls.  Can you see all human's souls?" 

 

Castiel nodded.  "Yes.  It is a capability that all angels share, the ability to see inside that which makes you human." 

 

Dean swallowed and saw Sam tense out of the corner of his eye and he sighed.  Sam probably thought that he had a dark and tainted soul after all of this Lucifer bullshit.  Well, there was one thing that he knew without a doubt and it was that Sam was not tainted or dark.  "So what does Sam's soul look like?" 

 

Sam spun around, his mouth and eyes wide with panic.  "No, no, I don't want to know about-"

 

" _Bright_ ," Castiel answered simply.  "Just as yours is, Dean Winchester," Castiel said with a smile.  "Few things on earth are able to compare to the beauty and brightness of heaven." 

 

Dean blinked and opened his mouth, before snapping it shut again.  "Excuse me?" 

 

"Your souls," Castiel said, looking between the two brothers.  "They are bright, beautiful and powerful.  If they were not, your bodies would not be able to contain the archangels.  They are the source of your power." 

 

Dean turned to look at Sam.  "So, let me get this straight.  You can see and find us so damn easy because our souls are like, like, fucking lighthouses or some shit?" 

 

"Lighthouses," Castiel repeated, searching Dean's memories for what the device he had named was.  He found it only moments later and understood it's functionality.  "Yes, it is very similar to a lighthouse.  I am always able to see the brightness of your soul.  For example, another angel, or a demon can see it." 

 

"And they can find us that way," Dean said, staring at the angel. 

 

"Yes, just as I can.  Which is why it is so important that I stay near you at all times to ensure that you are protected and they are not able to reach you before I can." 

 

Dean sighed and dropped back onto the bed, spreading himself out on it.  "So how the hell do we hide ourselves from everyone else that wants a piece of us, because that's all of heaven and hell if I have understood what is going on." 

 

"You are correct," Castiel confirmed, looking between Sam and Dean.  "Heaven and hell would very much like to know your locations so they are able to manipulate you accordingly." 

 

Dean scowled and rubbed his hand over his face.  "Fucking hell, I am far too sober to deal with any of this bullshit." 

 

"You're not drinking yet," Sam snapped.  "We have research to do, and Castiel here is trying to do what is right for you." 

 

"Oh my fucking god," Dean swore, sitting up on the bed.  "How the hell are you on the side of the angel in all of this?" 

 

Sam sighed and slammed their father's notebook shut and gave Dean a very pointed look. 

 

  

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Dean winced and cursed.  Fuck, that was right, needed to play along, needed to not piss off the angel and figure out exactly how dangerous the bastard was.  "So, Cas-"

 

"Cas?" Sam asked, his brows drawing together as he stared at his brother.  He groaned.  "Please tell me that you did not give an angel a nickname, Dean.  He has a name!" 

 

"Yeah, and now he has a nickname," Dean snapped back, turning to look at the angel, who was staring at the both of them, a bemused look on his face.  "Cas, here's the deal.  Is there a way to make sure we don't look like lighthouses for all of heaven and hell to come tracking down?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head and considered the question.  "There might be, why?" 

 

"Because I think that the two of us being the equivalent of a shiny dot on the map that might cause the end of the world is a bad thing," Dean growled, glaring at the angel.  "Can you find a way to mask us so we don't let all of the demons in a tri-state area know where the hell we are?"

 

"I will see what I am able to find out," Castiel said. 

 

"Wait," Dean snapped, glaring at him before he peeled off his plaid shirt and rolled up the t-shirt, showing the red, raised handprint there.  "While you're at it, can you tell me what the hell happened and why your handprint is burned onto my arm?" 

 

Castiel walked closer and reached out to trace the red, raised mark with his fingertips. 

 

Dean did not shiver.  He kept his feet firmly planted on the floor and did not shiver with his entire body as Castiel touched the scar on his arm.  "Well?  You going to tell me or are you going to keep staring at it?" 

 

"It's my grace, when it touched your soul for the first time," Castiel said, his voice quiet.  "I did not mean to leave a mark on you, but the way your soul reacted to my grace?  I've never felt anything like it before." 

 

Dean stared at the angel, turning that statement over a few times in his head and still not liking exactly where it came out.  "When you say how my soul reacted, what the hell are you talking about?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head and considered his words.  "It is hard to describe in your language.  You do not have the adequate words required." 

 

"Try," Dean growled, staring at the angel. 

 

"Souls often react certain ways when you touch them.  Most react with revulsion, pushing away that which is trying to touch them.  Others sometimes do not react, because they know what is touching them will not hurt them," Castiel explained, his brow wrinkling.  "Then there is the third, which I did not know was possible until it happened with you." 

 

Dean laughed hoarsely, dropping his face into his hands.  "I am so fucking tired of being the damn exception when it comes to shit like this.  What the hell happened when your, your, whatever, touched my soul?" 

 

Castiel stared at Dean for a long moment.  

 

"Cas," Dean snapped, opening his eyes to glare at the angel.  "Fucking out with it already!" 

 

Sam's eyes darted between Castiel and Dean.  The angel was clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say.  "Dean, hold on, I think there's-"

 

"You welcomed me home," Castiel said, his voice quiet.  "Your soul.  I didn't know, that it was possible for a human soul to react that way when it had been touched with Grace.  In fact, it mirrors no other soul I've touched." 

 

Dean took a second to parce through that, staring at Castiel, frowning.  "So, you're telling me, I wanted this to happen?" 

 

"Your soul did," Castiel clarified, staring at the human.  "I understand this is hard to accept, as your soul is reacting differently than your rational mind would, but I assure you, that is indeed what happened between the both of us." 

 

Dean gave a hoarse laugh and pushed himself up and out of his chair, running his fingers through his hair.  "We have a case tomorrow, Sam are you looking up the information on the hikers?" 

 

Castiel said nothing, staring at Dean as he walked to the table to pick up the keys and then headed for the door.  He took two steps after Dean and frowned when a hand from Sam was planted in the middle of the chest.  "He needs-"

 

"He needs to be alone," Sam said, his voice quiet.  "Trust me, he does.  He needs time to process what you've told him.  Give him that time." 

 

Dean had already disappeared from the doorway when Castiel looked for him again.  He moved backwards from where he had been standing, looking around the room.  "What have I told him that is so concerning?  I merely told him the truth." 

 

Sam laughed and pushed his hair out of his face.  "The problem with someone like Dean, and the truth, is that he's spent so much of his life in half-truth, half-lie land, that the blatant truth like that throws him off.  He doesn't know what to do with it." 

 

Castiel frowned and stared at Sam.  "Why do you both not trust that I am here to protect you?"

 

Sam snorted and focused back on his computer.  "We do.  But neither of us like being protected, we haven't had to have someone do that for us in years and years now." 

 

"You've always protected each other," Castiel said, looking at the notebook in Sam's hands. 

 

"Yeah," Sam said.  "Before we ever had anyone else, we always had each other, and this life.  I got out.  I wanted to get out, I wanted nothing more to do with any of it, for damn good reason." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "How did you manage to get out of this life?  I was under the impression that you had been working for Director Singer for an extended period of time now." 

 

"Oh I have," Sam said.  "Right out of college."  He sighed and looked at the ceiling.  "But I'm not going to tell you what happened.  That's Dean's story to tell, and we're hunting a Wendigo tomorrow, so we need the sleep." 

 

"A Wendigo?  Of Anansi myth?" 

 

Sam chuckled and closed his eyes as he pushed himself up and out of his seat.  "Trust me when I say they aren't a myth." 

 

"You will go after one of these yourself?" Castiel asked with a frown, staring at Sam. 

 

"Well yeah, we'll go after them together.  We know the protective sigils.  We'll be fine, we've even got the alcohol for the molotov cocktails." 

 

Castiel tilted his head to the side.  "I don't understand that reference." 

 

Sam burst out laughing and flopped down on the bed.  "That's something you'll have to get Dean to help you out with." 

 

"Why?" Castiel asked.  "You are aware of the reference and could teach me." 

 

"You're right," Sam agreed, yawning widely.  "But I damn well don't feel like it, and it's going to be funny watching him try to explain it to you." 

 

Castiel would ensure that he wrote down a list of all of the questions that he would need to ask Dean.  Including personal space. 

 

Sam frowned at the thoughtful look on Castiel's face.  "You think you can do the warding thing again that you did last night?" he asked.  "I want to know what each of the wards does, but I'm too damn tired to do it this evening.  We’ll talk more about them tomorrow if that's all right with you." 

 

"I don't see why not," Castiel agreed.  He held up his hand and focused, the wards drawing themselves across the inside of the hotel room, until the ink was finished being drawn on the wall. 

 

"That's amazing," Sam whispered.  "Holy shit, Dean is going to love all of this." 

 

Castiel turned to look at Sam and then at the wards.  "They are nothing truly impressive.  But they will keep you safe from either side in the event that they attempt to come see you." 

 

"Either side?" Sam asked, looking at Castiel. 

 

"Yes," Castiel said.  "There are plenty among the angels who do not agree with the approach I have arranged with Director Singer." 

 

"Approach?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "Traveling with you and keeping you safe.  Now excuse me.  I need to report to my garrison." 

 

Sam's mouth dropped open as Castiel disappeared only a few seconds later.  He blinked, hard.  What the fuck?  Angels who didn't agree with what Castiel was doing?  Bobby hadn't kidded around when he had been talking about how messed up all of this shit was. 

 

Sam sighed and he pushed his fingers through his hair.  This was all so fucked up.  He wanted to go back to normal salt and burns.  He wanted to go back to that more than anything else in the world, but of course, that wasn't what they had, was it? 

 

Instead of falling asleep, Sam stared at the ceiling.  Dean would come back and he would be able to properly explain.  Hopefully.  Or he could take a stab at it too.  But he wasn't feeling remotely up to that either. 

 

~!~

 

It was hours later when Dean stumbled back into the hotel room, reeking of booze, perfume and an apparently good time.  Sam sighed as Dean fell onto his bed face-first with a groan.  "Just because you're drunk doesn't mean that we get to skip out on that conversation," he called. 

 

Dean gave him the finger and Sam grinned.  "Don't worry, I'mma gonna ignore it until you don't wanna have it anymore." 

 

"Is that your brilliant plan?  Because that isn't how things work," Sam said, narrowing his eyes at Dean. 

 

"It's how most stuff works," Dean said, his muffled by the pillow.  "Night Sam." 

 

Sam sighed and watched Dean fall asleep almost immediately.  He looked back to the notebook and traced his fingers over the symbols that he had drawn already.  He needed to memorize them while he had the chance.  Who knew when they would come in handy.  And maybe Castiel would be able to help them with the Wendigo tomorrow.  It'd be nice. 

 

Sam had dozed off before he had even realized it, and when he stirred again, he put the notebook to the side, checked for his knife under the pillow and settled down to get some rest.  It was easy to fall asleep now, knowing that the had the protection of a literal angel watching over the both of them.  If only it had been under better circumstances and not the end of the world. 

 

**_"You are evil incarnate, after all.  Hasn't anyone ever bothered to tell you?"_ **

 

Sam shot up in bed, and looked over at the bed.  It was empty, and sun was streaming through the windows, making him realize that he had gotten far more than his four hours.  Which wasn't a bad thing, but was something that he hadn't meant to do.  He pulled his knife out from under the pillow and stared at it before putting it on the table. 

 

He needed a shower.  A long one while he was at it. 

 

~!~

 

Dean frowned and tapped on the steering wheel as he drove back to the hotel.  Sam had woken him up three separate times through the night, clearly having nightmares.  Not that the kid would ever admit to it. He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.  Apparently they did need to talk about the damn Lucifer thing. 

 

"Your brother is awake," Castiel said, appearing in the passenger seat beside Dean. 

 

Dean hated that he was getting used to the surprise appearances from the angel enough that he didn't flinch when he was suddenly there.  "Thanks, man, but he can survive on his own for another fifteen minutes while we get back to the hotel." 

 

"Neither of you slept well," Castiel observed, staring at Dean for a long moment.  "You, especially, did not.  Though Sam was having nightmares, he was able to fall back asleep after them.  You did not." 

 

Dean tightened his hands on the steering wheel and blew out a hard breath.  "Were you spying on us, overnight or something?"

 

"It seemed pertinent to keep watch while neither of you were able to do so," Castiel said, looking out the front window of the car.  He tilted his head when he felt the car accelerate further.  Humans had limits to these sorts of things. 

 

"Look," Dean snarled, looking over at Castiel.  "Quit it with that shit, or the two of us are never going to be able to get any sleep at all, you got it?" 

 

Castiel frowned.  "I do not understand." 

 

"Yeah, and that's more than half the fucking problem.  Look, I don't know how the fuck angels do it upstairs, but humans don't sleep with someone watching over them like that.  In fact, it creeps us the hell out," Dean said, looking over at Castiel.  "Do you understand?" 

 

"No," Castiel said. 

 

Dean sighed and eased off on the accelerator.  No need to get a ticket from some two-bit cop in town when they were about to play nice with the local police force.  "What don't you understand, Cas?"

 

"You need protection-"

 

"No," Dean snapped, looking over at him.  "We do not need any form of protection that you seem so intent on giving us.  We do not need it, we don't fucking want it, and we're putting up with it." 

 

Castiel closed his mouth and stared out the window in front of him, considering his conversational options.  Dean Winchester was increasingly resistant to his attempts to help and appeared to only be doing so due to orders from his superior.  "I do not understand."

 

Dean managed to get a laugh out and rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling.  "Of course you don't bloody understand." 

 

"Please explain to me why you are unwilling to accept the help of those that want to help you.  I will do my best to continue to keep the both of you alive-" 

 

"You sure?" Dean asked, turning to look at Castiel.  "You sure that you would do your best to keep Sam alive?  Wouldn't it be better if he died and went to hell to be the meatsuit for Lucifer?" 

 

Castiel turned to meet Dean's eyes and frowned.  "It would not be in your best interest, which is the only interest I truly care about.  We share a far more profound bond, but you are both under my protection." 

 

Dean laughed and leaned back into the seat, sighing loudly.  "A profound _bond_?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Like I don't have enough shit to think about already?" 

 

"It is of no meaning to you," Castiel explained.  "It is simply an explanation for what happened when my grace touched your soul.  A bond was formed.  It means nothing." 

 

Dean had a sneaking suspicion that it meant way more than nothing, but he was just going to make sure that he never mentioned it again.  He didn't need the ridicule from Sam, to start with.  "Right, well, you're going to keep it the hell to yourself.  I don't need you to start talking about bonds, I need you to help us."

 

Castiel frowned.  "I am not here to help you hunt, I am here to keep the both of you safe." 

 

"Well, if I'm about to get killed by this Wendigo, I hope that you show up in order to keep me safe," Dean said, pulling into the hotel parking lot, grabbing the food bag that was on the seats beside them. 

 

"That is a manipulation of my orders that I have regarding you," Castiel said, following Dean back into the hotel. 

 

Dean laughed and looked over his shoulder at the angel, who looked indignant at him.  "That's the fucking point, man.  So, are you going to help us and make sure that my ass is protected, or not?" 

 

Castiel frowned at Dean Winchester.  “If you need me, call me.” 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean turned around to snap at the angel that he'd need a phone number that he didn't want in order to be able to call him, but the angel was gone.  He sighed and headed upstairs, dropping the food on the table, looking at Sam.  "Found anything useful?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said, spinning the laptop around.  "Pretty sure I know exactly where it's hiding out, and we just need to head up there," he pointed to the map. 

 

Dean sank into the chair across from him.  "On the bright side, I'm pretty sure the angel will save us if we get into trouble." 

 

Sam raised an eyebrow.  "Pretty sure?" 

 

"Yeah," Dean said, taking a sip of his coffee.  "Now eat your food and we'll go hunting." 

 

Sam snorted.  "We've got a couple of miles to go in the woods before we get near it's nest." 

 

"Oh excellent," Dean drawled.  "Tromping around in the woods.  At least it isn't winter." 

 

"Small favors," Sam agreed, turning back to the computer.  "There's a campsite we can drop the impala at." 

 

Dean nodded.  "We need to go interview anyone?" 

 

Sam shook his head.  "No.  Case has gone dry as far as the locals are concerned.  They're expecting bodies to turn up at some point."

 

Dean grunted and stood up, staring to pack stuff into his duffel.  "Then let's get going to make sure we aren't actually cleaning up any bodies." 

 

"Yeah," Sam agreed, closing his laptop.  "We'll help them if we can." 

 

Dean nodded and finished packing quickly, absently rubbing the handprint he could feel under his shirt.  It ached, and he'd have to ask Cas about that, because if he was going to be sore or some shit, maybe the angel could heal it so he didn't need to think about it. 

 

"You okay?" Sam asked, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. 

 

Dean looked up at Sam and picked up his own bag.  "Yeah, more than.  You okay?  You slept like shit." 

 

"So did you," Sam said, looking pointedly at Dean. 

 

Dean grinned.  "Hey, not every day you find out that you are the vessel for Michael and Lucifer and that the angels and demons want the end of world to happen courtesy of you." 

 

"Yeah," Sam agreed, looking at Dean.  "Dean, what she-"

 

"Hey," Dean interrupted, walking towards the door.  "We're not going to do the chick flick moment.  You aren't evil incarnate and all of that bullshit.  You're the most nerdy do-gooder I know." 

 

"Oh fuck off," Sam said, reaching out to punch Dean in the shoulder. 

 

Dean grinned and winked at him.  "You'll have to get properly started on that evil thing if you actually want to live up to the name." 

 

Sam rolled his eyes and followed Dean out to the car.  "You are an asshole.  Why do I like you again?" 

 

"Because you don't like driving near as much as I do and staying on my good side is good for your health," Dean quipped, sliding into the front seat of the Impala. 

 

Sam tossed his bag in the back seat and slid in after him with a large yawn.  "All right, let's go.  We'll switch if you wanna rest afterward." 

 

Dean shook his head.  "Nah, I got it." 

 

Sam closed his eyes and relaxed back into the worn leather.  "Five bucks the angel shows up to scare the shit out of you." 

 

Dean scowled.  "No bet." 

 

Sam snickered and relaxed, leaning against the door as Dean started to drive them further north. 

 

This was one of the things he had missed about hunting.  Sitting in the front seat of the car with his brother, them against the world.  It was, it was nice to really do it again, even with everything hanging over their heads. 

 

~!~

 

"Hey," Dean said, reaching out to give Sam a quick hit on the shoulder.

 

Sam stirred and glared at his brother.  "What?"

 

"We're here," Dean said, climbing out of the car.  He'd parked at the very back of the campground, and the forest was way more quiet than it should have been.  "And we're definitely in the right place." 

 

Sam stepped out and immediately noted how quiet it was.  "Yeah.  You're right.  You think we're safe in the daylight?" 

 

Dean nodded.  "It's not going to risk it when it's recently picked up some humans to feed off of.  Let's see how far we can get before it starts to get dark.  You got the map?"

 

Sam pulled it out of his pocket and spread it against the hood of the Impala. "Yeah.  We need to head about six or seven miles west.  There's some abandoned hunting cabins up there.  Maybe a few mines too, perfect for them." 

 

"Why is it always abandoned mines," Dean said with an eye roll, grabbing his jacket, sliding it on, adding a few bottles to the inside pocket.  "You got the other two?" 

 

Sam slipped the bottles into the pocket of his jacket and nodded.  "Yeah.  Lighters?" 

 

Dean nodded.  "Yeah.  You bringing the shotgun?" 

 

"It'll only piss it off if we actually manage to shoot the damn thing," Sam said, moving to the trunk, pulling it out.  "But I'm going to take it and my gun anyways.  It'll feel good to shoot the bastard." 

 

"It'll feel even better when we torch it," Dean said, grinning at Sam, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans.  "It is nice not to have to wear the monkey suits.  I've missed boots." 

 

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes.  "You say that like you don't wear civies every single chance you get." 

 

Dean slammed the trunk shut and locked it, turning to glare at his brother.  "Oh, fuck you.  At least I can find clothes in my size." 

 

Sam laughed and started walking towards the tree line.  "That was weak, it's been years since you actually tried to make that work as an insult." 

 

Dean gave his brother a solid punch to the back.  "Shut the hell up and start walking." 

 

"Only if you're sure you can keep up with my massive legs," Sam called, snickering at Dean as he started to walk.  It was still too quiet in the forest, which meant that something was wrong. 

 

Dean grunted and made sure he had a hand wrapped around one of the bottles and the lighter in the other hand.  "You got a bad feeling about this?" 

 

Sam didn't answer for several minutes, keeping his eyes peeled as they walked further into the forest.  "Yeah.  A _really_ bad one.  What did Castiel say?" 

 

"Call him if we need him," Dean said, looking around him.  The sun was high in the sky, but there was almost no noise around them other than what they were making. 

 

Sam stopped for a second and drew marks quickly into the ground, stepping inside the circle, glad when Dean followed him.  They spent a few minutes, listening to the silence around them.  "No screams," he said quietly. 

 

"No screams," Dean agreed, looking around them.  "But you can't shake the feeling that we're being watched, can you?" 

 

Sam shook his head, glancing around them again.  "Think it's the angels and the demons again?" 

 

Dean squinted.  "It's not the angels.  Cas is keeping them off our backs." 

 

"You sure about that?" Sam asked, clearing his throat as he looked around. 

 

"Yeah," Dean said, stepping out of the circle, starting to walk again.  Even so, he dropped the lighter and pulled out his gun, keeping an eye out as they moved at a slower pace.  "But there's definitely something out there, and it's fucking with us.  Likely because it can." 

 

Sam nodded and took a deep breath, looking around them.  There was nothing but the unnatural stillness of the forest.  "Got several more miles to go." 

 

"Then let's move," Dean said, breaking out into a jog.  "We'll leave whoever is behind us the hell behind." 

 

"Yeah," Sam said, jogging behind Dean as they moved through the trees. 

 

Neither one of them said anything as they moved deeper into the forest, the trees thicker, and the greenery around them thick around their feet.  Dean frowned when he realized that he still didn't hear anything going on around him.  "Something else is out here." 

 

Sam nodded in agreement, pulling out his gun.  The sun was starting to set now, but they still had another hour or two of daylight left and they needed to be concerned about where the hell the Wendigo was.  "You think there's more than one of them?" 

 

Dean shook his head.  "Too territorial.  Wouldn't make sense." 

 

Sam looked around them again, and then looked up.  A flash of something disappeared out of the corner of his eye and Sam reached out to grab his brother by the arm, yanking him to a stop. 

 

"What?" Dean snapped, looking around again. 

 

"Up, Dean," Sam said, keeping his voice soft.  He kept the both of them still and after a few minutes, there it was again.  A rustling in the leaves, something that was not caused by the wind.  "Something's up there." 

 

"You planning to climb the tree to find out what the hell it is?" Dean asked, following Sam's eyes. 

 

Sam frowned and turned to look at his brother.  "You don't want to know what it is?" 

 

"It's not a Wendigo, so no, I don't care," Dean said, turning away from the trees, walking further into the forest.  "Come on.  We don't have a lot of daylight left." 

 

"Right," Sam said, following Dean.  He looked up and over his shoulder again and caught sight of something slinking behind the branches and shivered.  Something else was hunting them while they hunted the Wendigo. 

 

They kept going through the woods, and Sam froze when a scream sounded, not far away from them.  He and Dean drew the Anansi symbols in a matter of seconds and stood straight up, their backs against each other.  The scream came again, this time with words attached.  Sam saw a blur move in the trees.  "Hundred yards out, nine o'clock." 

 

"Your nine?" Dean asked, his eyes snapping to the spot as the blur moved again, this time racing deeper into the forest.  "Shit.  Well, it knows that we're here." 

 

Sam frowned and squinted.  "So why the hell did it run _away_ from us, Dean?" 

 

"What do you-"

 

Another scream hit the air, followed by a plea for help.  Sam grabbed Dean's arm before he could move.  "Dean!" 

 

Dean flinched and glared.  "That wasn't where it ran off to!  Came from the opposite side." 

 

"They're fast fuckers, it could have moved over there easily," Sam snapped, keeping a tight hold on Dean's arm. 

 

"There's more than a Wendigo in this forest," Castiel said, appearing behind them.  "You're being hunted." 

 

Dean spun around and nearly sank a knife into Castiel.  "What the fuck, Cas?  I thought you said you'd come when we called you?" 

 

"You didn't call me, and you are clearly in danger," Castiel said, his voice belaying some of his frustration.  "Do you know what's hunting you?" 

 

"You mean, besides the damn Wendigo?" Dean growled.  

 

"It's in the trees," Sam said, looking up again.  Castiel followed his gaze. 

 

"We need to leave, now," Castiel said, frowning at the sight of the crow he could see.  "You are being watched and followed." 

 

Dean jolted when a scream came from what sounded like just beyond the trees to their right.  "Not a chance in hell, we need to help out those campers!" 

 

"Dean!" Sam shouted as his brother broke out of the circle and started running through the forest.  He scrambled after him, taking one of the bottles out of his jacket, running with it.  "Dean, you fucking idiot!" 

 

"Hey, we've got an angel on our side, might as well make use of him!" Dean said, sprinting towards where the sound had come from.  "Come on, show your ugly ass face!" he called to the forest. 

 

Sam grunted as he was picked up and immediately thrown into a tree.  "Dean!" 

 

Dean spun around and threw the molotov cocktail at the bastard, catching him on the arm.  "Shit!  Sam!  You okay?" 

 

Sam pushed himself up and off the ground and looked around.  "Yeah, I'll be fine, I get thrown into trees every day, don't worry." 

 

"You are both exceedingly frustrating," Castiel said.  "Walk thirty feet to your right.  Have your fire ready." 

 

Dean scowled and was about to yell at Cas for ordering them when he walked around a tree and saw the angel holding the damn Wendigo.  "What the fuck?" 

 

Castiel grunted as the creature attempted to run from him again, tearing at itself to be free.  His vessel was not suited for the restraint of his strength.  "If you would both provide the fire I know you are carrying?" 

 

Sam shook himself out of the stupor first and threw the molotov cocktail at the Wendigo, hitting it square in the chest, flames bursting all over its body.  He watched Castiel release it a few seconds later as it burned and walk towards the both of them. 

 

"We need to leave, now," Castiel growled, looking up and into the sky.

 

"No," Dean said, glaring at Cas.  "Now that we've iced the bastard, we need to find the campers that it kidnapped and see if any of them are alive." 

 

"Dean Winchester, if you do not-"

 

Dean ignored Castiel and started walking towards the cave where the campers probably were.  "Come on Sam?" 

 

Sam looked up at the sky and then to Castiel.  He could see how angry the angel was, but hell if he wanted to leave innocents in that cave.  "Coming," he said, heading over to Dean's side.

 

Castiel didn't reappear, and thankfully two of the campers were still alive when Sam and Dean found them a few hours later.  They weren't thrilled at the need to walk several hours through the woods, but it was better than dying. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

By the time they got back to the Impala and dropped the two terrified campers off in town, Dean was ready to crash a thousand times over, but they needed to get the hell out of dodge.  He gunned it and headed south.  They could get out of Minnesota by the morning and be on their way to Kansas. 

 

"Dean?" Sam asked, looking over at him.  "You okay?" 

 

"Yeah," Dean said, taking a deep breath of air that did not smell like dead bodies.  "I'll drive through the night and we can switch, we'll make it to Kansas easily like that." 

 

Sam frowned at his brother, but nodded.  "All right, that sounds like a good plan.  You sure you're okay to drive?" 

 

Dean glared at his brother and focused back out on the road.  "Fine.  Get some shut eye.  You hurt anywhere?" 

 

"Some bruises, but I'll be fine," Sam said, settling in against the door, shutting his eyes.  "Wake me up when I need to take over," he ordered. 

 

Dean tightened his hands on the wheel and grunted out an affirmative.  He kept his eyes on the road and didn't look away until they needed gas.  He got the car filled up and they were on the way again, the sun creeping up over the sky by the time Sam stirred. 

 

The handprint fucking ached and didn't seem to stop.  Dean rubbed it absently as they finally managed to leave Iowa.  Whatever the fuck Cas had done to him with this damn thing needed to be undone sooner than later. 

 

Once the sun was higher in the sky, Dean pulled over into a rest stop and tried to close his eyes for an hour.  It wasn't enough, and every time he did, he could just see flashes of white that accompanied the damn burning handprint. 

 

Dean grabbed one of the beers from the backseat and popped it open, climbing out of the car, leaning against the trunk while he sipped the warm beer.  He stared up at the sun and rubbed absently at the mark. 

 

"Dean." 

 

Dean jumped and glared at Cas, who had appeared only a foot from him, staring right into his damn soul. "Personal space, Cas, jesus, I already fucking told you." 

 

Castiel tilted his head and squinted.  "You wish to be alone?" 

 

"I wish, I wish not to have you standing a foot from me!" Dean growled. 

 

Castiel took a large step back from Dean and continued to frown at him.  "I am sorry, Dean."  There was now at least three feet of space between them.  "Are you all right?" 

 

Dean sighed and leaned back against the Impala, looking up at the sky.  "Sometimes the job gets under your skin.  Most of the time, it doesn't.  But sometimes it does, and those sometimes are really only fixed with alcohol and a hell of a lot of repression." 

 

Castiel was silent, staring at the human in front of him. 

 

"Thanks for helping," Dean said, taking another swallow of the warm beer.  "Have a feeling that wouldn't have been half so smooth if you hadn't stepped in." 

 

Castiel nodded.  "It is my prerogative to keep you safe-"

 

"Yeah," Dean said, rolling his eyes.  "Until I do the thing, Michael takes me over, I die, and then the world ends thanks to he and Lucifer fighting." 

 

Castiel was silent, staring at the human in front of him.  "Would it comfort you to know that when you do die, you'll go to heaven?"

 

Dean snorted and took another drag of the beer.  "I'm not going to heaven, Cas.  No fucking way that'll happen." 

 

"Of course it will," Castiel said, his voice matter-of-fact.  "I can see that, written as clearly on your soul as I can anything else."

 

Dean shook his head and decided he wasn't going to get into a fight with the angel over it.  They had other things that they needed to worry about.  "So, can you tell me anything about what is going to be happening with all of this apocalypse bullshit?"

 

Castiel frowned at him.  "A minimal amount.  History has been thrown off course as a result of your father." 

 

"Right," Dean said, waving the beer at the angel.  "All right, let's have it.  What do you know, what can you tell me, if anything.  Also, I'd love to know why the hell you're here." 

 

"I am here to-"

 

"No, no," Dean said, shaking his head.  "Not the whole bullshit about protecting me, I know that.  I want to know why the fuck you're not doing the creepy stalking thing where I never see you, or you've kidnapped me away somewhere to keep me safe." 

 

Castiel stared at Dean for a long moment and tilted his head.  "Angels do not understand much about humans." 

 

Dean snorted again and sipped at the beer, keeping his eyes on the angel.  "You got that right." 

 

"They did not understand that in order to keep you willing, we needed to work with you as well," Castiel said.  "I made the suggestion to my superiors, and they assigned me to the task." 

 

Dean laughed.  "The task of making me willing to let Michael use me as a meatsuit?" 

 

Castiel nodded.  "Yes." 

 

"You're going to fail that task, Cas," Dean said, finishing off the last of the beer, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

Castiel stared at him, and his lips quirked for a quick moment.  "I believe that I am beginning to realize an alternate approach may be required, yes." 

 

Dean laughed and relaxed back against the trunk of his baby.  "All right, what do you know about the big showdown?  Need to know what our starting point is with all of this." 

 

"Dean," Castiel said.  "There is something you must know before I answer your question." 

 

Dean tensed and took in the seriousness of the angel's face.  "What?" 

 

"There was something following you in the woods.  After I left you both, I found out what it was." 

 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and tightened his hands in the fabric of his shirt.  "Oh?  Want to tell me what the hell it was?" 

 

Castiel's face was somber as he stared at Dean.  "Azazel.  The yellow-eyed demon." 

 

Dean froze, his heart pounding loud and hard against his ribs.  "The one my father-"

 

"Yes," Castiel said, inclining his head.  "He was watching you.  You must be careful." 

 

Dean swallowed and looked down at the ground between them.  "He could see our souls, couldn't he?" 

 

"It is very likely that that is the case.  You must keep Sam away from him, Dean," Castiel cautioned. 

 

Dean immediately turned around and relaxed at the sight of Sam snoring in the front seat.  Everything was all right, Sam was safe.  He faced the angel again.  "Why does he want Sam?" 

 

Castiel frowned and looked heavenward.  "Excuse me, Dean.  I must return to heaven.  I am being summoned." 

 

The angel disappeared a moment later and Dean sighed, leaning back against the car.  He climbed into the front seat and started to drive again.  No point in trying to get a few hours of sleep after that kind of a revelation.  Might as well keep driving. 

 

When Sam woke up and scowled at him for letting him sleep for so long, Dean was glad that he looked like he had gotten some proper sleep, despite everything.  Sam kicked him out of the front seat with an order to get some shut eye and Dean did his best, but, what the hell did Azazel want with Sam? 

 

He managed to doze off after a bit, but he didn't sleep properly.  Sam parking the impala had him immediately upright and alert.  The gas station in front of him made him relax.  "Gas?" 

 

"Yeah," Sam called, climbing out of the car.  "Don't worry, I'll use the good stuff." 

 

"Damn fucking right you will," Dean grumbled, closing his eyes and settling back into the seat again.  After a few minutes of the normal sound of Sam filling the tank, Dean's skin prickled and he sat up, looking around.  Someone was watching him.  "Sam," he called. 

 

Sam straightened and took his hand off of the gas pump.  Dean had sounded worried.  "Dean?" 

 

Dean relaxed a fraction and climbed out of the car.  "There anyone else here?" he looked around again.  There wasn't anyone.  The feeling of being watched got worse. 

 

"No," Sam said, his voice turning wary as he looked around them.  "You feel that though?" 

 

"Yeah," Dean said, his voice gruff.  "Got your gun?" 

 

Sam nodded and pulled it out of his pocket.  "Shoot first and ask questions afterward." 

 

"Definitely," Dean said. 

 

" ** _SAM_** ," A voice whispered. 

 

Sam and Dean spun together, firing in the direction the voice had come from.  There was no one standing there.  This time a low, dark chuckle surrounded them. 

 

"You think human weapons can harm me?" the whispers said. 

 

Sam shared a look with Dean and tightened his hold on the gun.  "Why don't you show your face and we'll see just how much damage we can do?" 

 

"Where is the fun in that, vessel of Lucifer?  It's funny, watching the two of you wander around, lost and confused little mice." 

 

Sam felt a hand wrap around his neck even though there was nothing there and then his feet left the ground.  He grabbed at his neck, but there was nothing, no one there, even as he kicked out at where someone should have been standing. 

 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, vaulting over the hood of the car, running for him.  "Sam!"  He slammed into the back of a trenchcoat he belatedly recognized as Castiel before the angel was raising his hand. 

 

"Close your eyes, both of you!" Castiel ordered, wrapping his hand around the demon's neck.  He whispered a few quick words in Enochian and a bright flash of his Grace later, it was gone, returned to hell where it belonged. 

 

Sam dropped to the ground, sucking in air desperately, scrambling to his feet.  "We have to get out of here," he said, climbing into the car. 

 

Castiel stepped out towards the fields that surrounded the gas station.  "They will not let you leave.  They have you surrounded." 

 

Dean looked at his brother and stepped closer to the car.  There was no one there, no one that he could see besides the angel, but he could feel the weight of whatever was out there.  "Cas-"

 

"Sam, Dean," Castiel said, stepping into the circle of demons.  They crowded around him, all eager to have the chance to kill an angel. "Hold onto each other, close your eyes and cover your ears," he ordered. 

 

Sam shared a look with Dean and then did it immediately.  A loud roar echoed around them and the ground started to shake.  Sam held onto Dean tightly.

 

Dean was afraid, but then he felt the touch of the light that was surrounding them, and he knew it.  It was the same one that had left the mark on his arm.  The scar ached for a few seconds, but then it faded and it felt warm.  It was Castiel, and the angel was going to protect the both of them and keep them safe. 

 

When the roar faded, Dean opened his eyes and removed his hands, sitting up and looking around.  Castiel was standing in the middle of what looked like a crater.  "Cas?" he called, his voice hoarse.  There was no weight of gazes now, all he could see and feel was the angel.  

 

Castiel turned to look at Dean and Sam.  They both appeared to be unharmed.  He walked towards them. 

 

Dean swallowed hard.  Cas' eyes were glowing, bright, vibrant blue.  He hadn't doubted that Cas was an angel, something that was clearly not human, but now that he could see it, he knew, without a doubt that Cas was an angel.  And a powerful one, at that.  "You okay?" 

 

"They were not expecting me to call my garrison down.  They were overwhelmed within seconds.  I protected you both," Castiel explained, striding towards them. 

 

Sam lifted his hands the rest of the way off of his ears and cleared his throat.  "How many angels do you command in your garrison, Castiel?" 

 

Castiel turned to look at Sam, blinking a few more times to allow his Grace to appropriately retreat into his vessel.  "Several thousand, to use a human numeric term." 

 

Dean's eyes went wide and he looked between Sam and Cas.  "How the hell did you get stuck with babysitting duty?" 

 

"It is a privilege to be guarding you both," Castiel said, turning to look at Dean.  "One of my subordinates has been managing them in my absence." 

 

Sam grinned and looked over at Dean.  "Thanks for getting us out of that mess, Cas.  Can all demons turn invisible like that?" 

 

Castiel shook his head and approached the car again once he was certain that he was appropriately contained within his vessel.  "No.  They were using a spell to conceal their appearance.  That is what I noticed first.  Are you both all right?" 

 

Sam nodded and rubbed at his throat.  "Not the first time I'll be choked, I very much doubt it'll be the last.  Let's get the hell out of here before they come back." 

 

Castiel nodded and looked at Dean.  "That would be my recommendation as well." 

 

"Don't have to tell me twice," Dean said, sliding back into the car.  "Cas, hop into the back seat.  I kinda want you with us in case any more invisible armies show up." 

 

Castiel disappeared for an instant and reappeared in the back seat of the car.  "Of course, Dean." 

 

Sam rolled his eyes and slid into the front seat, glad when Dean started the engine.  "At least we aren't too far away from this bunker that we're going to be squatting in." 

 

"Tell me more about this bunker," Castiel said.  "When did you discover it?" 

 

Dean looked over at Sam.  "While back.  Reported it to Bobby, but the place reeks of old school, the 1950's, long before the FBI had the Monster Eradication department-"

 

"That's not what it's _called_ ," Sam interrupted, glaring at his brother a little bit. 

 

Dean waved a hand and kept talking as he started to drive.  "Doesn't matter, semantics.  Anyways.  This bunker has clearly been around for a while and has books that this muttonhead has been wanting to sink himself into for ages now.  Didn't realize the old man was keeping it in his back pocket for reasons like this that might pop up." 

 

"Director Singer was wise to do so, if indeed it is what you describe," Castiel said.  He frowned as the boys began to drive and looked heavenward, at the message he was being sent. 

 

Dean glanced in the rearview window.  Castiel had been looking straight up at the ceiling for more than ten minutes now.  "Cas?  You okay back there?" 

 

Castiel considered his next statement as he refocused on Dean.  "My superiors are not pleased with me.  This latest attack has them concerned.  I have been attempting to allay their concerns that you will be safe at this new location you are traveling to." 

 

"Let me guess," Sam drawled.  "They don't believe you and want to kidnap Dean to somewhere safe." 

 

"Yes," Castiel said, looking heavenward.  "However, their speaking with me has perhaps given me an idea for how to protect you from the gaze of any that might see you." 

 

Dean brightened and relaxed his hands on the wheel a little as he opened up the engine as they hit the highway.  "Oh yeah?  What are you thinking, Cas?" 

 

Castiel hummed and stared straight ahead.  "There is a spell that is used for protection.  If I were to carve the symbols for such onto you, it would prevent your souls from being seen." 

 

Dean raised both of his eyebrows and stared into the rearview mirror.  " _Carve_?  What the hell, Cas, I'm not going to let you carve anything into me." 

 

Castiel frowned and stared straight ahead at the window in front of him.  "I will have to find an appropriate place to do so.  Your skin would be too obvious and there are others that would notice such markings." 

 

Sam looked up at the ceiling.  "What about our ribs?  How big are the sigils you need to make?" 

 

"I can scale them down accordingly.  You are suggesting the rib cage, Sam?" Castiel asked, looking at the other human in the front seat.  He considered it and tilted his head to the side, thinking about it for a few minutes longer.  "I do believe that that would work as an alternative." 

 

Dean sighed and tightened his hands on the steering wheel.  "We'll figure that shit out when we get to where we were going.  Cas, you want to finish telling me what we were talking about earlier?  With yellow eyes?" 

 

Sam stiffened and looked between Dean and Cas.  "What about the yellow eyed demon?" 

 

"His name is Azazel," Castiel explained, turning his gaze to Sam.  "And he is going to come for you." 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Sam swallowed hard and met the piercing blue eyes of Castiel.  "Which means what, precisely?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head and considered.  "In order to release Lucifer, there are seals that must be broken.  Sixty-six of them, to be precise.  However, some of them are fixed, especially the last one."

 

"Right," Sam said.  "So we don't do the last one, and everything will stay where it is and nothing will happen." 

 

Castiel was silent. 

 

Dean tensed and shared a look with Sam before looking in the rearview mirror again.  "Cas?  Isn't that right?" 

 

"It is likely that you will both be tricked into breaking the final seal," Castiel said, his voice clear.  He looked between the both of them. 

 

"Well, why don't you tell us what the seal is and then we'll make sure _not_ to do it," Dean said with a grumble, looking at Cas over his shoulder.  "Seems easy to me." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "I do not know precisely what the last seal is," he explained.  "Only that it involves you both.  And that if you were to become involved with Azazel or any demons, it would not end well for the world," he explained. 

 

Sam blew out a breath and looked at the ceiling.  "Fuck, this just keeps getting better and better.  So how do we keep the demons out and the hell away from me?" Sam asked. 

 

Dean looked between his brother and the angel in the back seat.  "We'll figure that out as soon as we get where we are going.  In the meantime, we really don't have the time to fucking worry about that, right Cas?" 

 

Castiel didn't say anything and looked between both of the brothers.  He frowned and looked skyward again. 

 

Dean reached out and punched Sam in the shoulder.  "Don't you worry, we're going to get things sorted, I fucking promise you that.  We'll figure shit out, we'll go back home and you'll get your promotion to permanent nerd and everything will be fine." 

 

Sam nodded and turned to look out the window.  "We'll be there soon." 

 

Dean frowned when Sam turned away from him.  Cas was looking straight up again, an expression of frustration on his face and Sam had completely closed himself off, looking out the window and ignoring him.  Dean took a deep breath and cranked up the radio, pressing his foot down on the accelerator. 

 

It was several hours before they pulled down the dirt road that would lead them to the bunker.  No one had said a word and Dean was ready to say whatever the hell came into his head first, just to break the damn tension.  He parked the car and climbed out, stretching easily.  Neither Sam or Castiel moved. 

 

"Let's go you two," Dean snapped, heading for the front door, running his fingers through his hair.  He wanted to sleep, for several hours.  But they had to get started researching exactly what was going on.  If there was a place that they were going to find answers, it was going to be here, and Bobby damn well knew it. 

 

"Sam," Dean said, glad when his brother finally turned to look at him.  "Check the burner emails and see if Bobby has contacted us.  It's been a few days, and while there is one less Wendigo in the world, I would have expected to hear from him now." 

 

"Wait," Castiel said, appearing in front of Dean at the door.  He tilted his head and stared at it.  "I will check to ensure that it is safe," he said and disappeared. 

 

Dean sighed and stared at the ceiling, stuffing his hands into his pockets.  "I'm so tired of the babysitting." 

 

"Well," Sam said, walking up beside Dean.  "So far the babysitting has come in handy a couple of times, so maybe you should stop bitching about it?" 

 

Dean glared at his brother and focused back on the door when it was opened for the both of them.  Castiel stood on the other side. 

 

"It is safe.  There are even sigils that will prevent angels from entering certain rooms," Castiel explained. 

 

Sam raised both of his eyebrows and looked at his brother, following Dean down the stairs.  "What the hell?  Angel warding?  We didn't notice that the first time we were here." 

 

"There are many more secrets here than you might think," Castiel said, looking around the room again.  "You two will be safe here.  The building is strongly warded against demons.  As are the surrounding grounds.  There are buried salt lines." 

 

Dean whistled.  " _Damn_.  Whoever was here before us sure didn't fuck around if they buried their salt lines." 

 

"I believe that they had good reason to be cautious," Castiel said, frowning at the room.  "I can feel the presence of demons, but long ago.  Likely when there were last inhabitants here." 

 

Sam shared a glance with Dean.  "Well, I'm going to go see if the water runs and find a bedroom." 

 

"Slow down, little brother, let's not go all geek on this stuff," Dean said, his eyes catching on a machete that was on top of a bookcase.  "On second thought..." He picked it up and gave an experimental wave through the air, grinning bright as he tested the blade with his thumb.  Blood was drawn almost immediately and he held it up to Sam.  "Still sharp." 

 

Sam rolled his eyes and approached the bookcases.  "We'll need to start sorting through books to see if we can find anything useful." 

 

Dean nodded and started walking down another hallway.  "We'll have to make a run back into town for some supplies, and make sure the pipes and other stuff are all good in here." 

 

Sam found what looked like a breaker box on the wall and started flipping the switches, filling the room with lights, the hum of a generator immediately sounding in the room.  He looked around and gave a whistle.  "This place is bigger than we gave it credit for when we were last here." 

 

Castiel frowned and looked around the room as more lights slowly were turned on.  "There are secrets here," he said, his voice quiet. 

 

Dean frowned at Cas and shared a shrug with Sam.  Hell if he knew what that meant.  But there were plenty of things they could figure out and dig through properly later.  For the time being they were safe, even according to angel standards, and he was looking forward to a proper hunt. 

 

"All right, let's figure out what rooms we are sleeping in, get that organized, check the pipes, and then we'll make a food run in town," Dean said, grinning at his brother and the angel still standing in the middle of the room. 

 

Castiel tilted his head and looked heavenward again.  "I must return to my garrison now that you are safe.  I will come back when I am able, but I am being summoned." 

 

Dean gave Cas a salute as he disappeared and turned to grin at Sam.  "So is this place sweet or is this place sweet?" 

 

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, it's pretty awesome Dean, I think that we've established that." 

 

Dean turned around the room and rubbed his hands together.  "All right, let's see what we can find." 

 

~!~

 

Dean tapped on the keyboard a few more times, reading through the rest of the webpage.  It looked like there was a case a few hours away.  Ghouls who were enjoying some munching on the living rather than the dead.  "Sam!" 

 

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, appearing in the room behind him. 

 

Dean stood up and looked at Cas.  "Well there you are, we were wondering if you were ever going to come back!" 

 

Castiel frowned and looked around the room.  "How long have I been gone?" 

 

"Over a week, man.  We were starting to wonder if you had been kicked off babysitting duty!" Dean said. 

 

Castiel shook his head and recalled what he had been ordered.  "I have not been.  The duty was assigned to me, and I will fulfill it to the best of my abilities.  Are you and Sam well?" 

 

"Yeah, we're about to head out on hunt.  Ghouls.  Lots of fun.  Want to come with us?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at Cas.  "Make sure I don't get eaten by the things?" 

 

Castiel shook his head and looked around the bunker again.  There was something deep and dark in this building.  He would need to do further investigation to understand what it was.  "No.  It would be far more wise if you were both to stay here." 

 

"Nope!" Dean said cheerily, picking up the plate that he had finished eating off of, bringing it over to the sink in the kitchen.  "We aren't about to stay here under house arrest, Cas.  If you want to make sure that I am safe, you're going to come with us, and ensure that my ass is protected.  If you don't want to do that, I totally get it, but you should." 

 

Castiel scowled at Dean.  "You will both stay here." 

 

Dean narrowed his eyes and turned to face the angel.  "We will not be staying here and you can't fucking make us." 

 

"Can't I?" Castiel asked, tilting his head, refusing to look away from Dean.  "How will you stop me, _boy_?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. 

 

Dean took a step back at the power he could now feel bleeding off of Castiel, his blue eyes glowing bright and angry in the room.  He held up his hands.  "Woah, Cas, calm the fuck down.  It's just some ghouls that we need to go take care of.  We'll be gone two days, tops." 

 

"It is not _safe_ ," Castiel growled, continuing to glare at the stubborn human in front of him.  "Or would you like to become subject to another demon attack?" 

 

"I have an idea," Sam called, walking into the room from the library, a book in hand.  "Why don't you go with Dean on the case, Cas, while I stay here?  That way you should end up safe from demons, and I can keep researching." 

 

"Fucking nerd," Dean grumbled, glaring at his brother out of the corner of his eyes. 

 

Castiel tilted his head and looked at Sam Winchester.  "This is an acceptable alternative."  He turned to Dean.  "I will accompany you on your case." 

 

Dean threw up his arms.  "You don't know the first thing about being on a case, why the hell should I bring you with me?" 

 

"Teach me," Castiel demanded, walking closer to Dean.  "You have been able to teach yourselves, now teach me." 

 

Sam burst out laughing and settled at the main table so he could watch how this was going to play out.  "Yeah, Dean, teach the angel how to interrogate humans." 

 

"You shut the hell up," Dean growled, pointing at Sam before he turned back to Castiel.  "Look, it's not that I don't want your help, but I don't have the time to-"

 

"I will be coming with you, or you won't leave," Castiel said, staring at Dean for another long moment.  He did not enjoy giving the ultimatum, but it would allow him to continue to keep Dean Winchester safe from harm and that was paramount to his mission and the requirements of heaven. 

 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest.  "What the hell, man.  I thought angels were guardians and shit.  Fluffy wings, halos.  Not _dicks_." 

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow and stared at Dean.  "While we are guardians of sorts, and do indeed have both wings and halos, they are not, by human definition, fluffy." 

 

Dean glared at the angel.  "Well, what about you lot all being dicks then?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head and stared back at Dean.  "While this vessel does have a penis, I do not understand what you implying I have one through the vernacular means." 

 

Sam burst out laughing and leaned back in his chair, wheezing through each of the laughs.  "Oh my god, fuck," he swore, panting through a fresh bout of laughter.  "Fuck, Cas, that was unfair." 

 

Dean glowered at his brother.  "You shut the fuck up before I come over and make you!" 

 

Castiel looked between the brothers, confused as to what had just transpired.  "Is everything all right?" 

 

Sam started laughing all over again, struggling to catch his breath.  "Cas, Dean is, Dean is calling you an asshole, to use the vernacular, and you just..." he lost it, dissolving into laughter again. 

 

"Is this similar to the personal space issue?" 

 

Dean stared up at the ceiling, at where he imagined that heaven likely was and raised both of his middle fingers. 

 

"A very ineffective gesture, considering where my kind are located," Castiel commented, watching as Dean growled. 

 

"I fucking hate you," Dean growled, turning around to glare at Castiel.  "That is not the fucking point." 

 

"Then what is?" Castiel asked. 

 

"I am fucking angry and want a way to express my anger!" Dean snarled, spinning around to punch Castiel in the face.  It was as though he had just shoved his hand into a brick wall.  He grunted and twisted away, holding his hand. 

 

"You have bruised both of your knuckles, Dean," Castiel said, walking forward, pressing two of his fingers to Dean's shoulder, healing him in a moment. 

 

Dean wanted to curse Castiel, but the ache in his hand was abruptly gone, but the fucker wasn't going to get an apology. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have two chapters to apologize for my lack of updating lately! Life happened!


	11. Chapter 11

 

Sam broke into more laughter and rolled his eyes.  "I'm surprised you didn't end up breaking your hand, Dean," he teased. 

 

"Dean would have had I not turned my head with his punch," Castiel explained, his voice matter of fact. 

 

Dean bit down a groan and stalked away from them both.  "Cas, we are going to leave in an hour-"

 

"You can't," Sam called.  "You've got to give me at least four to make his badge." 

 

Dean blew out a hard breath and bunched his hands into fists.  "Four hours, and we're going to leave.  At least you don't need a new outfit."

 

Sam rolled his eyes and walked over to his duffle bag, pulling out a handful of IDs.  "Honestly, he should make the damn thing himself." 

 

"What are you making?" Castiel asked, frowning as Sam started to pull more items out of his bag, spreading them across the table. 

 

"Hm.  I'll make you a generic badge.  I don't have anything to print your picture out with," Sam mumbled to himself, pulling out one of his old badges.  "Yeah, this'll work." 

 

"Sam?" Castiel asked again, stepping closer to the human, looking over his shoulder.  He picked up one of the badges and looked at the name.  "Your name is not Agent Banner." 

 

Sam laughed and looked at the badge that Cas was holding.  "You're right.  I learned how to make fake FBI badges long before I got an actual one from the bureau.  Every once in a while it comes in handy." 

 

"Why can you not use your actual names?"

 

Sam shrugged.  "We don't know how everyone is tracking us.  While it likely is our souls, like you said, who knows if they are using more human means.  We need to account for that." 

 

"I suppose," Castiel allowed, frowning as Sam picked up a tool and began to fiddle with the badge.  He looked in the direction that Dean had disappeared and frowned again.  "Where is Dean?"

 

"Moping, probably," Sam said, snickering a little.  "He's not too pleased with me right now, with good reason." 

 

Castiel frowned and looked at him, sitting down in a chair across from Sam.  "I shall meditate until it is time to leave." 

 

"Whatever floats your boat," Sam said, waving in Castiel's general direction.  He glanced toward Dean's bedroom and smiled as he heard the faint sound of music not long after. 

 

~!~

 

"Sam, you done with those badges?"

 

"Yeah," Sam called, looking up from the book that he was skimming through, gesturing to the drying badges on the table.  "They should be good to go now." 

 

Dean scooped up his and slipped it into his back pocket, looking over at Castiel, who was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his eyes closed.  "What is he doing?" 

 

Sam shrugged.  "Meditating, according to him." 

 

"He looks like he has a stick up his ass," Dean said with a snort.  "Reminds me of you, even." 

 

Sam punched his brother in the shoulder and scowled.  "Oh fuck you."

 

Dean snickered and rolled his eyes.  "Not this time little brother," he said, winking.  "Cas," he called.  "You ready to go?"  Bright blue eyes met his a moment later and he shivered. 

 

"Yes," Castiel said, standing up from his chair, picking up the badge that Sam had created for him.  He studied it for a long moment.  "These bear a remarkable resemblance to the actual badges you carry." 

 

Sam laughed.  "If that's you complimenting my forgery skills, thank you, Cas.  Like I said, we've done this more than once, so it's something I'm familiar with." 

 

Castiel nodded and looked at Dean.  "Where should I place the badge?" 

 

Dean took the badge from Cas and stepped in closer, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket.  "Here.  Pull it out when you need to identify yourself." 

 

"Very well," Castiel said, looking at Dean.  "Shall we depart now?"

 

"Yeah," Dean said, looking over at Sam.  "Check in once a day, minimum.  If you find anything, call anyways," he ordered. 

 

Sam rolled his eyes and grinned at Dean.  "You're acting like I'm eleven, staying back the first time while you go on a hunt.  Go, I'll be fine.  With a little bit of luck, maybe I'll even find something that will help us by the time that you are back." 

 

Dean grunted and headed for the door.  It felt wrong to be leaving Sam behind, but they needed to find those ghouls and take care of them already. 

 

Castiel was already waiting for him in the front seat of the impala and he frowned.  It didn't feel right to see someone that wasn't Sam sitting there.  He brushed his hand through his hair and slid into the front seat.  The comforting purr of the engine had him relaxing a few seconds later. 

 

"You find comfort in the sound of the Impala?" Castiel asked him. 

 

"Yeah," Dean said, hoping that Castiel wouldn't ask any more questions as he pulled out of the driveway and headed for the open road.  Their case wasn't far away, but he still had a few hours driving ahead of them. 

 

Thankfully, Castiel didn't seem inclined to ask questions and Dean was able to relax and simply enjoy the drive ahead of them. 

 

"Is it normally the custom to speak and ask questions on a drive such as this?" Castiel asked, looking at Dean. 

 

Dean tightened his hands on the wheel.  “I suppose.” 

 

Castiel frowned at the human as he clearly got increasingly uncomfortable the longer the silence stretched between them.  “When did you start hunting?” 

 

Dean took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed to play nice, per Bobby’s instructions, and he’d almost always blown off the angel up until now.  “I grew up hunting.  So did Sam.  Long before the Bureau legitimized it with a proper branch.  We were an underground group for the most part.” 

 

“Underground?” Castiel frowned and looked down. 

 

Dean snorted.  "Not actually underground, mister literal.  No, meaning that we weren't a group that people knew about.  We just did what had to be done." 

 

Castiel frowned and looked out at the road as Dean relaxed beside him.  "That sounds terribly inefficient and lonely." 

 

Dean laughed and picked up one of the cassettes in the box beside him, pressing it into the tape player, turning the volume down just enough so they could still talk to each other without a problem.  "Inefficient, absolutely.  There's lots of knowledge scattered everywhere, but actually having it in one central spot now is the best part about the Bureau.  People like Bobby - he had a library, but there were still pieces missing." 

 

"I see," Castiel said, tilting his head to look at Dean again.  "And lonely?" 

 

Dean shrugged and tapped his fingers on the wheel.  "Not usually.  It could be from time to time.  But this job?"  he blew out a breath and tapped his thumbs to Led Zeppelin.  "The FBI is all work, no play.  This job is, whether you're working for the Bureau or not." 

 

"You and Sam seem to make the fun for yourselves," Castiel commented, studying Dean intently. 

 

"Yeah, we fuck around from time to time.  If you don't, not many other ways to let off steam, and I'm not about to go to a bar and pick up the alternative when the war is ending," Dean said, letting one hand fall off the wheel as he relaxed. 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "What does that mean?"

 

Dean rolled his eyes and looked over at the angel sitting beside him.  "Getting laid, Cas."

 

Castiel frowned again.  "That is...relaxing for you?"

 

Dean didn't bother to try to reign in the snicker this time.  "Yeah, it definitely can be." 

 

"Why do you not try to find, a, ah, partner?  Of the intimate sort?" Castiel asked, still studying Dean. 

 

Dean shook his head and glanced over at the angel.  “No, trust me, in this life, you can’t afford attachments.  You gotta...let go.” 

 

"You're attached to Sam," Castiel pointed out. 

 

"He's my brother," Dean said.  "That's different.  Besides, I am going to let him go.  He's going to be head of research, he's wanted that job for forever." 

 

Castiel looked at the tape as the music changed again, becoming slower and melodic.  This was far more pleasing than what had been playing before.  "What will you do?" 

 

Dean shrugged and watched another car pull by him, speeding down the highway.  He snorted and shook his head.  Baby’s engine would need replacing in a few years.  Again. "I work better on my own."

 

Castiel frowned.  "Your brother does not think so." 

 

"Yeah, well, he's the one leaving me!" Dean snapped, and turned his attention back to the road. 

 

Castiel looked back out at the road in front of them.  He settled back into the seat, trying to make himself comfortable enough to mimic the posture Dean had while driving.  "Is that how you see it?" 

 

"Them's the facts," Dean said, glancing at a sign that indicated they were still a long ways from their destination.  Silence stretched out and Dean resisted the urge to squirm in his seat.  The handprint was starting to ache again, too, to make matters even worse.  Because of course he couldn't catch a break. 

 

Castiel said nothing.  His words would only anger Dean further, it seemed. 

 

Dean sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  He'd promised to play nice.  "So why are you doing this?" 

 

Castiel blinked and looked back over at the human.  "I'm sorry?" 

 

"This," Dean said, waving to the space between them.  "Why are you here on earth, with us?  Why aren't you part of the squad that wants to kidnap me and keep me wherever until it's time for the showdown?" 

 

Castiel considered the question and looked straight out at the road in front of them.  "That is a complicated question." 

 

"Not really," Dean shot back, grinning a little when the angel scowled at him.  

 

"It is," Castiel repeated, frowning.  "I have gone against the wishes of my superiors.  The first time I have ever done so.  My approach is not...what they would wish." 

 

"Why?" Dean asked.  "Why are you taking this approach?  Trying to work with us instead of doing what you want?" 

 

"A brother," Castiel said, his voice quieting.  "Once told me that humans were incredible.  He spent a great deal of time on earth.  Of all the angels, he had perhaps known you best." 

 

Dean went quiet and glanced over at him.  "And?"

 

"He died," Castiel said, his voice curt.  "However, I believe that were he here, he would have suggested to attempt working with you, and that you would be far more willing if we did so." 

 

"So," Dean drawled, looking over at the angel.  "You're putting your career on the line because of what some long-dead brother told you?" 

 

"A more accurate comparison would be my life's work is currently on the line," Castiel said. 

 

Dean tightened his hand on the wheel.  "Well, I'm probably fucking you over then with my refusal to say yes to that bastard, then, aren't I?"

 

"Yes," Castiel agreed. 

 

Dean wondered if that meant he was supposed to apologize for it.  But, fuck if he was going to apologize to this dickbag.  "I won't apologize," he growled.

 

Castiel tilted his head and looked at the human.  "Why would you apologize?  It is your choice.  Obviously, I do not agree with it, since it could perhaps cause hell to be brought to earth, but it is your choice, not my own." 

 

"Yeah, but my choice is fucking you over," Dean said. 

 

Castiel squinted at him.  "I do not see how fornication is involved-"

 

"Yeah, yeah, no, I meant, my choice is causing your boss to be pissed at you," Dean explained. 

 

"Ah," Castiel said.  "This is perhaps accurate, however, it is not my choice to make.  I have made mine, for what it is, and I will accept any consequences of that choice." 

 

"Why aren't you trying to make me do what the others want?"  Dean asked, tightening his hand on the wheel again. 

 

Castiel considered this question and looked out the window, smiling at the fields that they continued to drive by.  "I am not trying to force you to do anything, because I can understand your decisions and why you do what you are."

 

Dean scowled.  "Bullshit.  You want to stop the devil." 

 

Castiel nodded.  "I do." 

 

"And I'm how you stop the devil," Dean added, looking at him. 

 

"Yes, you are," Castiel agreed. 

 

"So those two things don't match up.  Why the hell are you trying to work with me?" Dean snapped. 

 

Castiel closed his eyes for an instant, and remembered the song of ringing golden grace, delighted laughter and the love of a brother long gone.  "I believe, were my brother here, it is what he would have done.  I believe it is what is right." 

 

Dean snapped his mouth shut and stared at the road in front of them.  He reached out and turned the radio up, cutting off any other conversation and focused on driving.  Hopefully the angel would get the damn hint.  He took a deep breath and tried to relax as they drove. 

 

It didn't take long to get to Springfield, but once they were there, it took Dean longer than he would have liked to find a place to crash for the evening. 

 

Castiel followed Dean into the hotel and wrinkled his nose at the state of the room.  In a blink, the sigils that would protect Dean were on the walls and he focused on the hunter in front of him.  "You should perhaps check and see if Director Singer has attempted to contact you." 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

Dean scowled and booted up his computer, because the angel had a damn point, even if he didn't want to admit it.  He checked one of the burner emails and a new phone number from Bobby with an order to call him.  "Shit," he swore.  He pulled out his phone and dialed the number, relaxing back into the chair. 

 

"About time you called me boy!" Bobby snapped, stepping into his office.  "Let me clear the room."  He pulled open a drawer and a knife, slicing into a finger, drawing the banishing sigil on the underside of his desk before pressing his hand to it, glad when the room didn't flash. 

 

Dean smiled into the phone.  "Why, miss me, old man?" 

 

"You two make it safe to Kansas?" Bobby asked, keeping an eye on his door.

 

"Yeah, we're safe.  I'm actually on a case, right now," Dean said, turning to look at the angel over his shoulder.  "With the angel." 

 

"Where's Sam?" Bobby snapped.  "You left him alone?" 

 

"Relax," Dean said.  “He’s in the bunker, but there are some ghouls-”

 

“You should have let us handle it,” Bobby grumbled.  “But it sounds like you’re already there.” 

 

Dean smiled.  “Don’t worry, it’s a two-day case, tops.  We’re going to go interview a few witnesses, kill off the ghouls, and then head back to the bunker to dive into research.” 

 

Bobby grumbled.  “Stay safe.  Oh, and I have news for you.” 

 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this news?” Dean asked, tapping a few keys on his keyboard to open up a browser. 

 

“Because you aren’t,” Bobby said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.  “Castiel?  He’s your new partner.” 

 

Dean sat bolt upright.  “What?!  No!” 

 

“No choice, kid,” Bobby added, looking back around the room.  “You need a partner, anyways.” 

 

Dean scowled at Castiel as the angel moved into his line of sight.  “I don’t need a partner.  I work better on my own.” 

 

“ _Horseshit_ ,” Bobby shot back.  “You’re horrible on your own.  You can manage, sure, but you’re a reckless bastard, and both Sam and I want you back in one piece.” 

 

“Does he know this yet?” Dean growled, glaring at his computer. 

 

“No, but he’ll be told somewhere in the next few hours, I figure.” 

 

Dean sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair.  “Short of quitting, I can’t get out of this, can I?”

 

Bobby snorted.  “Wouldn’t let you quit even if you tried, kid.” 

 

“I don’t want to be his partner?” Dean offered, putting a pleading tone into his voice. 

 

“Tough shit.  You won’t work with anyone besides Sam, so this is what you get.  Besides, it’s shut up a few of the biggest complainers upstairs and we’re trying to keep them happy, remember?” Bobby said. 

 

Dean glanced over at Castiel. 

 

Castiel frowned and looked heavenward.  “Dean, please do not leave the room, I am being summoned,” he ordered, before disappearing. 

 

“Cas just left for his conversation,” Dean said, glancing at the phone.  “You got any idea how bad this is, yet?”

 

A grunt came over the phone.  “ _Bad_.  Worse than we thought.  Angels might be as bad as demons.  Yours is a good one.  He’s on our side.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Dean asked. 

 

“Sure as I can get,” Bobby said. 

 

Dean sighed and took a deep breath.  "Old man, I'm not sure that this is going to be enough in this case, we definitely need-"

 

"Look," Bobby said, lowering his voice, looking out the window.  "I trust him.  So do me a favor and trust that I'm right about him.  If I'm not, you'll need to stab him with an angel blade, or find some holy oil in order to kill him." 

 

Dean bit down on his lip as he imagined having to kill the angel.  He didn't want to kill Cas, he just wanted the bastard to fuck off and not bother him for the foreseeable future.  That was the best outcome of everything that was going on, but even that wasn't going to happen since he was stuck with the bastard.  "How long are we going to be partners for?" 

 

"Until I say otherwise," Bobby said.  "Look, I have a feeling this is meant to be a punishment for him, because they're grounding him until further notice.  That normally isn't a good thing." 

 

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.  Great, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, now he needed to think about the angel that was getting in trouble because of him.  "This is so fucking messed up." 

 

"I know," Bobby agreed.  "It's about as messed up as things can get, but I promise that we're going to get things sorted out for you.  You and Sam stay safe and listen to that angel when you can.  I'm working on things on my end." 

 

"You stay safe too old man," Dean growled, tightening his hand on the phone.  "You got someone there watching _your_ back since I'm not there to do it?"

 

"Mills came up to help with that." 

 

Dean wanted to bark out a laugh.  He had a feeling that Jody had come up for far more than just to keep an eye on Bobby like he was implying.  "All right, well, you know the saying, all work and no play makes Bobby a dull boy.  Take her out on a night on the town or something." 

 

Bobby rolled his eyes.  "Oh fuck off on you giving me romance advice, kid.  Go get those ghouls and call us the next time you find a case." 

 

"Yeah," Dean agreed, blinking in surprise when Castiel appeared in front of him, only inches away.  "I'll talk to you later."  A click sounded in his ear and he stared at Cas and cleared his throat. 

 

"Cas," he managed.  "We've talked about this. Personal space?"

 

Castiel frowned and took a step back.  "Apologies." 

 

Yeah, Dean had no doubt that he had no idea what the hell he was talking about.  "Do we still need to have the personal space discussion?"

 

"I do not understand," Castiel said, still frowning at Dean. 

 

"Yeah, that was my question," Dean said, rolling his eyes.  "People have a bubble.  When you violate that bubble, it startles the shit out of them, so back the hell up for a little bit, would you?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "Bubble?"

 

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, putting his phone in his pocket.  "Imagine that there is a line around me that is at least two feet wide.  If you are standing closer than that, you're going to make me fucking uncomfortable." Castiel stepped back from him and Dean could practically see the angel measuring the distance with his eyes. 

 

"Why?  You let Sam within that boundary often." 

 

Dean glared at the angel.  "Sam is my brother, and I'm not worried about him when he's that close to me." 

 

"But you are concerned when I am that close to you," Castiel said with a nod, studying the human in front of him.  "Why?" 

 

"What the fuck are you, three?" Dean grumbled under his breath, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. 

 

Castiel stared at Dean.  "My approximate age would be more accurately measured in millennia." 

 

Dean blinked and took a second to process that.  "So, you're older than dirt.  Literally?" 

 

Castiel blinked.  "An semi-accurate supposition, yes." 

 

Dean cackled and couldn't help grinning.  That was one way to make the angel more human.  "Good to know." 

 

"Why is my age good to know?" Castiel asked, staring hard at Dean.  He had found some aspect of his age amusing, but he didn't understand why it had been so. 

 

"I can tease you and make fun of you for being that old," Dean explained, grinning a little bit.  "Now, we have some witnesses to go interrogate, so we should get to it.  We'll also need to stop by the police station.  How do you feel about that?" 

 

Castiel nodded and shifted his blade so it was in his sleeve.  "Very well.  What else do I need to know?" 

 

"Follow my lead.  You don't need to know anything, and you don't need to do anything," he muttered, glaring at the angel.  He looked at the sleeve of Castiel's trenchcoat and wondered what the angel was holding.  "We're dealing with ghouls, based on the description.  We just need to confirm that at the police station with the coroner and then we can head out to kill the bastards a little later tonight." 

 

"You do not think that there will be more victims during the daylight?" Castiel asked. 

 

Dean shook his head.  "Nah.  Ghouls like flesh, but they like being caught even less.  Whether they're munching on the living or the dead, they're going to do it later in the evening." 

 

Castiel frowned and nodded, walking to the chair across from the computer that Dean had been typing at a little bit earlier.  "Very well.  Do we leave now?"

 

"Yeah, unless you've got other shit that you would rather be doing," Dean said, looking at the angel.  "Come on, let's have you learn to interrogate." 

 

Castiel stood up and walked out of the hotel and froze in the doorway, scowling.  He blocked Dean from leaving.  "We cannot go." 

 

Dean scowled and gave the angel a shove in the shoulder.  "What the hell do you mean we can't go?  We've got to go." 

 

"No," Castiel said, closing his eyes as he felt the power that was starting to surround the town.  "It is not ghouls." 

 

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.  "Of course it is, it has all of the signs of ghouls.  Thankfully, the bastards are easy to kill, and with you here, we're definitely not going to have a problem with any of this-"

 

"Dean," Castiel said, pushing him back into the room, his frown deepening.  "You need to stay here.  There are demons.  Your soul is a beacon to them.  If you leave this room, then you are going to be found." 

 

Dean groaned.  "Then do the damn thing that you talked about before!" 

 

Castiel blinked and tilted his head, looking at Dean again.  "I'm sorry?" 

 

"The thing that you talked about with protection, remember?" Dean said, waving a hand at himself.  "The whole thing with the ribs?" 

 

"I do not know if it is going to work," Castiel said, glancing out the door.  The demons were not approaching any closer, which was something small and positive for the moment.  They likely knew that Dean was in the town, but they did not know precisely where he was. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and spread his arms.  "Might as well try it, since we don't have any other ideas at the moment!" 

 

Castiel frowned and reached out to press his hand to Dean's chest before pulling it away. 

 

Dean snorted.  "Was that it?" 

 

"No," Castiel said.  "You need something to bite down on.  I do not know if this will hurt as I do it.  I will heal you, but I need to ensure that the sigils are correct first." 

 

Dean walked over to his duffel and riffled through it before pulling out a strap of thick leather.  "Haven't needed to use this in a few years.  It'll work." 

 

"What is that?" Castiel asked. 

 

"Something Sam and I keep for exactly what you're talking about.  Now hurry up and do the damn thing," Dean said, taking the leather between his teeth, bracing himself for whatever was about to hit him. 

 

Castiel nodded and approached, pressing his hand to Dean's chest, breathing out slowly as he did so.  "I am sorry if this hurts." 

 

Dean closed his eyes and waited.  He felt it only a second later, starting in his handprint.  The same level of heat that he was beginning to attribute to Castiel, it was pressing against him and then it was _in_ him.  He was vaguely aware that he was screaming, and that the heat became pain that was wiped away only seconds later by another wave of cold comfort.  It was confusing, painful and nothing that he ever wanted to do again. 

 

When it finally stopped and Dean felt Castiel pull his hand away, he dropped to his knees, his head spinning.  The handprint was burning, white hot and intense and Dean panted through it, gritting his teeth against the pain.  "What the hell did you do to me?" 

 

Castiel frowned and knelt down in front of the human.  Dean still appeared to be in pain.  "What is wrong?  I have healed your ribs.  Where do you hurt?" 

 

"Handprint," Dean managed to growl, taking a deep breath.  "What the fuck did you do to your handprint?"

 

Castiel blinked in confusion and looked to the handprint that he could see on Dean's shoulder and reached out, lifting his hand and pressing to where he knew the mark was.  Like a jolt, Dean's soul reached for him, grabbing greedily at his grace, struggling to pull him closer. 

 

The second Castiel's hand touched the handprint, Dean felt the relief wash through all of him and he sagged, relaxing.  "Fucking hell Cas, what was that?" 

 

"I," Castiel struggled with the words, even as he fought to not let himself fall into the light of Dean's soul all over again.  _Bright, strong, valiant._   Everything his brother had once loved about humans, Dean was.  He sent a small pulse of his grace towards Dean and took a deep breath as he pulled his hand away, searching Dean's features to see if there was any pain there.  "I'm sorry, Dean."

 

"Instead of apologizing, how about telling me what the fuck is going on with the handprint," Dean growled. 

 

"I'm not sure," Castiel said, looking at where he could see the imprint of his grace on Dean's soul.  Dean's soul was dancing in delight and it made something in his grace twist, deep and covetous.  He had never seen a soul so beautiful and so broken all at once.  "Does it still hurt?" 

 

"No," Dean said, standing up and dusting himself off.  "Whatever you did worked.  How about you tell me what the fuck that was?" 

 

Castiel shook his head.  "I do not know."

 

Dean narrowed his eyes.  "You don't know, or you aren't telling me because you think that my human mind is too small to comprehend what just happened?" 

 

"Do not put words in my mouth, Dean.  I do not know what has happened," Castiel said, frowning and stepping away from Dean.  "Will you need to change into a more appropriate outfit for the conversations that we are about to have?"

 

"Yes," Dean said, looking down at the civies.  "I'll change.  "Don't go anywhere."

 

"I wouldn't dream of it," Castiel said, his voice dry. 

 

Dean paused and looked at the angel, wondering if that had been some sort of joke, or something else.  "You fucking with me?" 

 

"No," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes at Dean.  "I would not dream of doing something so very human." 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Right.  Anyways.  Turn your back or something so I can get changed." 

 

Castiel turned so his back was to Dean, even though it made no difference in his ability see the human and see everything that he was.  "If it is demons..." 

 

"If it is demons, we'll exorcise them, just like we have everything else and you'll help me do it," Dean said, stripping off his shirt and jeans, pulling out the clothes that he needed out of his bag. 

 

Castiel frowned and considered his next words.  "If it is demons, it is likely a trap for you, as they knew that you were coming." 

 

"Well, your whole thing just took care of that, right?" Dean asked, rubbing a hand over his chest.  There was nothing to show that he'd just supposedly had something burned into his ribs, but he didn't doubt that it was there.  Bobby trusted this angel so he needed to make sure that he was doing the same.  That didn't mean that he had to like it though. 

 

"Yes," Castiel agreed, his voice hesitant.  "However, if it is a trap, it is possible that they will find a way to separate you from me and I will not be able to protect you." 

 

"Hey," Dean said, reaching out to punch Castiel in the shoulder as he worked on his tie.  "I can take care of myself, I've been doing it for long enough." 

 

"Director Singer has expressed the exact opposite and has cited your need for a partner as the most obvious point against that argument," Castiel said, turning to face the human again.  He watched Dean tie the tie and stared. 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "I don't need a partner." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Have you been given your latest orders?"  He had been reassured that Dean would be told that their current arrangement was to become more permanent, however perhaps that conversation had not happened yet. 

 

"Orders," Dean scoffed.  "If you mean that I know I'm stuck with you for a far more permanent basis, yes, I have been made aware and I don't like it.  Is that what you're referring to?" 

 

"It was," Castiel agreed, frowning at him.  "Why are you upset with the arrangement?  I will be able to protect you and keep you safe." 

 

Dean scowled at Castiel.  "Because I don't need a babysitter.  I need someone that will work with me and watch my back.  I don't need someone to hover over me and make sure that I do every single thing by the book." 

 

"Ah," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes at the human.  "And if I were to suggest that you could teach me to be the latter instead of the former?" 

 

"I'd wonder what the hell your motivations are.  You've been ordered to stick with me permanently," Dean said, tucking a gun into his ankle holster, swinging on his shoulder one as well.  "That's a demotion, isn't it?" 

 

"No." 

 

Dean blinked.  "No?" 

 

"No," Castiel agreed.  "It was precisely what I wished to be ordered to do.  Thankfully, my manipulation was successful." 

 

Dean turned and looked at Castiel properly and found the angel staring at him.  He raised an eyebrow.  "A manipulation?" 

 

"Yes," Castiel said with a nod.  "I wished to be assigned to your side permanently to allow for you to be protected, and to ensure that no other angels would be assigned to the task.  There are many others who would not take your wishes into account for things that are happening here." 

 

"So," Dean said, holding up a finger.  "What you're saying is that you manipulated events so that you would end up being my partner here on earth?"

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow back at Dean, mimicking the gesture.  "Yes.  Is that so surprising?"

 

Dean barked out a laugh and walked over to the bed for his gun and his jacket, swinging it over his shoulder.  "Yes.  Considering I thought you were all about following orders." 

 

"While we are decidedly encouraged to follow orders, and it is what we, as angels, are built to do, we do have the ability to make our own mistakes and choices," Castiel said, staring at Dean. 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Hopefully this decision doesn't fuck you over for the next few millennia then." 

 

"Even if it does," Castiel said.  "We are immortal creatures.  I have the remainder of eternity to earn my place once again." 

 

Dean's mouth dropped open and he considered that.  "So I'll be the one black mark on your record of excellence?  Is that what you're saying?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head again.  "No.  You are simply what you are.  I have made a choice that I believe is right.  My superiors do not agree.  It is not a...black mark, as you have said." 

 

"Well, you're not doing what they want you to do, right?" Dean said.  "Isn't that a black mark?" 

 

"Actually," Castiel said, his lips curling for the faintest of moments.  "I am doing precisely as I have been ordered.  I am remaining by your side as your partner, keeping you safe." 

 

Dean blinked and he realized what Castiel had meant about the manipulation earlier.  He laughed and smoothed his hands down the side of his suit.  "Well, I'll be damned, Cas.  Maybe you aren't half bad after all." 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow.  "We do not have much daylight left Dean, perhaps we should head to the police station?" 

 

"Yeah," Dean agreed, turning for the door.  He opened it and held it open for the angel.  Castiel followed him to the car and climbed into the front seat after him. 

 

Dean turned up the radio and relaxed as they made their way to the station.  In a small town like this, they didn't need to drive far.  "Can you, I don't know, sense anything?" he asked Castiel, leading the way into the station. 

 

"Demons," Castiel said, his voice curt.  "There are no ghouls here that I can sense.  We need to be very careful, Dean." 

 

"You can overpower them in a second, what's there to be careful of?" Dean shot back, walking up to the man at the front desk.  "Have your badge ready," he muttered under his breath, reaching into his pocket. 

 

The clerk looked up and raised an eyebrow.  "May I help you gentlemen?" 

 

"Yes," Dean said, giving him a charming smile.  "Special agents Banner and Stark here to investigate the series of murders that the town has been experiencing." 

 

"Right," he said, standing up.  "Come on, I'll take you two to the captain." 

 

Dean settled his badge back into his pocket and winked at Cas.  "Sometimes being charming pays off," he said, smirking a little bit. 

 

"I suppose so," Castiel said, following behind Dean as he led the way deeper into the station.

 

"Hello gentleman," A man said, standing up and offering his hand to the other man.  "My name is Captain Ortega.  What can I do for the both of you?" 

 

"Special agents Stark and Banner," Dean said, taking out his badge, flipping it open for the captain to examine quickly.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cas mimic the same motion and tried not to groan when he flipped the badge the wrong way up.  The captain looked at Cas, confused. 

 

Dean reached out and flipped the badge in Cas' hand, glad that at least the angel had a good poker face, because he seemingly hadn't even noticed the movement in the slightest.  "He's, ah, he's new," he explained, clearing his throat.  It wasn't untrue, at the very least. 

 

"Right," the captain said, turning his back on the two agents.  "Why don't the both of you come with me and I'll take you over to my office?" 

 

"Thank you," Dean said, smiling at him, following behind the captain.  He gave Cas an elbow, but the angel didn't show any signs of even feeling the touch, let alone reacting to it.  He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  He was going to kill Bobby for thinking that they would make a good team.  The angel didn't know the first thing about interrogating or what he needed to do to make sure that they weren't caught.  _Fuck_. 

 

Castiel glanced over at Dean and he could see the irritation in his face at what he had done earlier.  It seemed like such a simple mistake, he had no idea why Dean would be angry with him for that.  At the least, they were now on their way to the office and he sat down besides Dean and looked at the captain. 

 

"So, you boys are here about the murders?"

 

"Yes," Dean said, adjusting himself in the seat, leaning back a bit.  "We got wind of it and figured that we would come up to take a look." 

 

"Didn't think that we could handle it ourselves?"  Captain Ortega asked. 

 

Dean smiled and leaned in closer.  "Absolutely not.  We want to work with you, not against you here, captain.  We're not here to take over the investigation, just offer us as resources to help."  He watched the captain relax a little.  "Would it be possible for us to see the bodies?  Maybe look at the coroner’s report?" 

 

The captain nodded.  "You have any idea what might have done this?" 

 

"Demons," Castiel said.

 

Dean scowled and cleared his throat when the captain looked at him with wide eyes. 

 

"What did he say?" 

 

"Nothing-"

 

"Demons-"

 

Dean bit down the urge to groan again and smiled for the captain, who was looking more and more confused by the minute.  "You know, demons, drink, adultery..."

 

"You think adultery was responsible for ripping people apart?" The captain asked, raising both of his eyebrows. 

 

Dean shook his head.  "No, but I think that it was definitely a crime of passion, and there's something to be said for keeping things of that nature in mind when we're investigating." 

 

"Uh-huh," the captain drawled, looking between the both of them.  "Right.  I'll set you up with our coroner.  He can take you in to see a couple of the bodies and give you his report." 

 

"Great," Dean said, smiling widely as he stood up and offered his hand.  "We'll be out of your hair soon enough Captain."

 

"That might be true if I had any hair," The captain shot back. 

 

Dean laughed and elbowed Castiel until the angel cracked a brief smile.  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes in front of the captain and followed Castiel out of the room and let the captain lead them to the coroner's office. 

 

"Why didn't you tell him?" Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes at Dean as soon as they were left alone. 

 

"Because," Dean snapped, glaring at him.  "We need his help and if we tell him that demons are running amok in his town, he's going to run us out of the damn town, and it'll make our job ten times harder." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Informing them would protect them." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, if they believed you.  Most of the time, they aren't going to believe you when it comes to supernatural shit.  So you lie, bullshit your way through it and kill what the hell is terrorizing the town.  This is why the Monster Eradication department exists!" 

 

"That is not the name of your department, Dean." 

 

Dean threw up his arm.  "For fuck's sake, not you too.  I know it's not the name, but I like it better, and that got veto'd when we were voting.  Anyways.  The coroner will be here soon, try not to do anything else stupid." 

 

Castiel stared harder at Dean's back, tilting his head a little bit.  "You should show me some respect, Dean." 

 

Dean glared at Cas.  "I'll show you some respect when you don't almost blow the case for us, Cas!" 

 

"Agent Stark, Banner?" A voice called from the doorway. 

 

Dean spun around and plastered his best fake smile on the face for the other man and walked closer.  "Hello, you must be Aaron, the attending coroner, right?" 

 

"Yeah, pleasure to meet you," Aaron said, reaching out to shake his hand, grinning at him.  He swallowed and fought down a blush.  "I heard that you guys were here to help with the Peterson case?" 

 

"You got it," Dean said, winking at him.  "So what's going on with it?  Do you guys have any leads?" 

 

Aaron's face fell and he shook his head.  "We don't know anything, and we're waiting for someone to step forward and tell us something that makes sense, because right now nothing does and I know the police are getting frustrated with it."

 

Dean raised an eyebrow.  "What does that mean?  What was the cause of death?" 

 

Aaron cleared his throat.  "I'm not squeamish as a coroner, you know?  But even this?  I had to take a few minutes after I saw what had happened to those poor people." 

 

"Wow," Dean said, following Aaron over to the freezers.  "Let's take a look and we'll do our best to help however we can." 

 

"Thank you agent-"

 

"Call me Dean," Dean said, giving Aaron another wink, chuckling when he started to blush.  "We're here to keep you safe, and I promise that we are going to do the best job that we possibly can to take care of it, deal?" 

 

"Got it," Aaron agreed, opening one of the freezers, pulling the body out.  "Here's one of them.  You can, uh, see what we mean," he added, pulling the sheet back to expose the body. 

 

Dean's eyes went wide as he looked at the gashes and the ripped apart flesh and swallowed hard.  It had all of the makings of a ghoul, demons or not.  He studied the cuts for a few more minutes, checking to see if there was anything else out of the ordinary that he could spot.  Nothing stood out. 

 

"Agent Banner?  You see anything?" Dean asked, looking over at Castiel.  He watched the angel walk closer, his face still impassive. 

 

Castiel studied the body and narrowed his eyes.  It was obvious that it had been meant to mimic an attack of a far more vicious monster, but it was also clear looking at the cuts, that they were far cleaner than an attack of another type would have been.  "Yes, I believe we do." 

 

"Really?" Aaron cut in, stepping closer, his eyes wide.  "You can see something?  Tell me, what did I miss?  I did my best not to miss something, but I'm new and it's bound to happen from time to time." 

 

Castiel frowned at the human in front of him and then looked to Dean. 

 

Dean cleared his throat and smiled at Aaron again.  "Just a hunch, but we think it might be an animal attack." 

 

Aaron's face fell.  "We analyzed the bite marks to see if they were, and the slashes and they aren't consistent-"

 

"We'll see," Dean said, offering another smile to take the bite out of his words.  "But I promise you that we're going to get to the bottom of this.  We've already had far more people injured than I want to see in a small town like this, so we will do our best to make sure that everyone leaves here, completely in tact. 

 

"Awesome," Aaron said, grinning.  "I certainly hope that you are able to end the mystery for us," he added. 

 

Dean nodded and reached for the report that he could see on the table, flipping through it quickly.  All four of the victims were listed and they had nothing in common, from what he could see.  Which meant that the attacks were random, and from the timing, it looked like they were also increasing in frequency, which didn't bode well for what was going to happen in the next forty-eight hours.  "What else do you know?" 

 

"Everyone is spooked," Aaron said.  "No one new has come into town in the past few weeks, so unless it is an animal, whoever is doing this is someone that we've all known for years, and its putting everyone on edge.  I know that the police have broken up at least a dozen fights in the past week." 

 

Dean frowned.  "That's always the case with any of these small town murders.  You start second guessing your judgment of your neighbors and everyone else that you know and it makes matters worse." 

 

"Right," Aaron said.  "So we need to figure out what is doing and causing this and we need to attempt to do it quickly." 

 

"We will," Castiel spoke up, running his finger along the report that Dean had handed to him, something that he had watched the human do only moments ago.  Perhaps it gave the illusion of additional study of the words.  They were simple enough and there was no need for additional detail looking through them. 

 

Dean fought down a smile and looked over at the angel.  He sounded so certain about the fact that they would help everyone.  "Yeah, we will," he echoed, looking over at Aaron, offering his hand out to shake.  "We'll see you later?" 

 

"Definitely," Aaron said, smiling at Dean.  "There's a bar a bunch of the officers go to after work.  Down on grant street.  If you need to find me, that's where I'll be later." 

 

"No one waiting for you at home?" Dean asked, smiling. 

 

"Nah," Aaron said, shaking his head.  "I'm good on my own, but I hope to see you later, agent." 

 

Dean winked at the coroner again and led the way out of the small station and into the street, walking towards the impala.  He could feel Castiel next to him and looked down the street.  A few people were glaring at them, their shoulders hunched in suspicion. 

 

"What are you thinking?" Castiel asked, stopping beside Dean.  He looked down the street.  He could feel the impression of the demons here, though none were present in their immediate vicinity. 

 

"I'm thinking that this isn't adding up," Dean said, starting to walk towards the car again. 

 

Castiel frowned.  "What do you mean?" 

 

"It's ghouls.  Those markings are exactly what ghouls are.  Through and through," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair.  "But you're saying that it's not ghouls and it's demons, but there's no sign of them." 

 

"There are," Castiel corrected.  "Their influence is being felt all over the town.  What that man mentioned, the fights breaking out?  That is potentially demonic influence." 

 

"Or it's a couple of guys who are upset that their friend just died and they need to work off some steam," Dean countered, opening the door to the car, sliding in and running his hand through his hair.  "It could be both things." 

 

"You don't trust my word?" Castiel asked, climbing into the front seat. 

 

Dean tightened his hand on the wheel and started to drive towards the library.  "I do trust you, and that's why I think something else is going on here." 

 

Castiel tilted his head at the surprise admission.  "You are lying to me to reassure me." 

 

Dean barked out a laugh and looked over at Castiel.  "Sorta.  Interesting that you noticed and picked up on it that quickly." 

 

"You are not a man who is quick to trust.  Director Singer explained that to me in detail," Castiel said. 

 

"Yeah, well," Dean said, clearing his throat as he started to drive them towards the library.  "The other thing that Director Singer told me is that he trusts you.  And as much as I hate all of this bullshit that's going on outside of this case right now...I respect his opinion.  So, I trust you." 

 

Castiel considered that for a long moment.  The human was not lying.  But he was not telling the truth entirely.  His motivations were conflicted, and it did describe the emotions he was giving off.  "Very well." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled into the library parking lot.  "Now we get to do Sam's favorite part of the job!" 

 

"Which is?" Castiel asked, following Dean into the building. 

 

"Research," Dean said.  "We need to look through old newspapers to see if these ghouls have popped up before. Ghouls don't like to travel, they like to remain stationary.  So if this has happened before, there's going to be a record of it somewhere." 

 

"Ah," Castiel said, trailing behind Dean.  He looked upward at a call from one of his superiors and frowned. 

 

"Cas?" Dean asked, pausing in the doorway.  The angel was looking upright in a way that said someone from upstairs was talking with him. 

 

Castiel returned his attention to Dean.  "Apologies.  Lead the way." 

 

"Right," Dean said, clearing his throat as he started to head over to the library desk, finding out where the old newspaper clippings were with a few minutes of flirting.  He started sorting through the books and looked at Castiel, who was standing stiffly across from him.  "Start looking, you've got eyes." 

 

Castiel frowned and took the book that Dean was offering him and frowned down at it.  "What am I looking for?" 

 

"Anything that remotely resembles a ghoul attack," Dean said, looking down at the pages, flipping through them slowly.  It didn't take long to get lost in the rhythm of skimming each of the articles. 

 

"Dean," Castiel said, after more than twenty minutes had passed. 

 

"Yeah?" Dean asked, looking up.  Castiel had gone tense, all of his attention now focused on the door. "What's wrong?" 

 

Castiel looked from the door to the window, and frowned.  "Something is wrong." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and glared at the angel.  "There are potentially demons and ghouls in the damn town.  Of course something is wrong." 

 

"No," Castiel said with a shake of his head.  "The demons are, they are leaving the town.  Why would they leave?" 

 

Dean blinked and started to grin, realizing exactly what had happened.  "Because they can't see me anymore." 

 

Castiel turned his attention back to the human and narrowed his eyes.  "What do you mean?" 

 

Dean waved down at his ribs where Castiel had done the, the, whatever.  "This?  This, it's hiding me from them.  They can't see me anymore, so of course they are going to move on." 

 

Castiel blinked at him and Dean raised an eyebrow, waiting for the angel to come up with something else, to give him another reason that they would have moved on.  "I suppose," he allowed. 

 

Dean smiled and winked at Castiel.  "I'd say that's exactly what is going on!" he said, his voice eager.  "There's no suppose about it, without a doubt." 

 

Castiel frowned and turned his attention to the books in front of him again.  "If that is the case, Dean, we need to be very careful with you.  If they are to get word that you are still here..." 

 

Dean waved off his concerns.  "No, I think that we're safe now, Cas.  We just need to make sure that we don't do anything stupid, and since I am not planning on doing that, we're good!" 

 

Castiel was hesitant to agree, but nodded after a few minutes.  "I suppose so.  Have you had luck finding any history of these attacks?" 

 

Dean shook his head.  "No, which doesn't bode well for us.  So we need to go interview some of the families of the victims, see if we can find out if any of them were into graverobbing." 

 

Castiel blinked and stared at Dean.  "Graverobbing?" 

 

Dean snorted and waved a hand.  "Yeah, why else would the living be in a graveyard at night?"

 

Castiel stared at Dean until the human started to chuckle and he realized what had happened.  "You are mocking me." 

 

"Yep!" Dean said cheerfully, closing the books, starting to put them back into place.  "The best thing we can do tonight since the demons have blown town..." he looked around to make sure there was no one that could overhear them and smiled.  "Head to the graveyard tonight ourselves, take care of the slippery bastards and then head to the bar to celebrate after everything is all said and done!" 

 

"You make it sound as though vanquishing ghouls will be an easy prospect," Castiel said, staring at the human.  "Perhaps it is for me, but for yourself-"

 

"Not worried about that!" Dean said, grinning at Cas.  "I know how to kill them and I know what we are killing.  Honestly, that's more than we get on most of our cases, so I'm going to enjoy it." 

 

Castiel frowned and put the book that he had been studying away, watching the human in front of him.  "You should also contact Sam." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes, but pulled out his phone.  "What are you, my mother?" he grumbled, his fingers flying across the screen of the phone as he shot Sam a few messages. 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "No, I am not your mother, Dean." 

 

Dean groaned under his breath and led the way out of the library, his phone ringing a moment later.  "Sammy!  How's the nerdery going?" he asked, relaxing as he slid into the front seat. 

 

Sam laughed and leaned back in the chair, looking around the bunker again.  "It's going as good as can be expected for a library that is almost completely uncategorized." 

 

Dean winced in sympathy and nodded.  "That's fair.  Find anything useful about this big showdown yet?" 

 

"Only things that we already know, in some more detail.  If this information about the horsemen is right when Lucifer is released-"

 

"We're not going to release him," Dean said, his voice determined.  "And even if that does happen, we'll find a way to fix it."  He ignored the pointed look from Castiel and took a deep breath.  "We've got a couple of ghouls on our hands here, and there were some demons sniffing around.  Turns out the idea Cas did?  Works wonders.  You'll get your turn when we get back to the bunker." 

 

Sam relaxed a little, leaning back into the seat.  "That's good at least.  Are the demons still around?" 

 

"Cas said that they buzzed off when they realized that they couldn't find me any longer," Dean said, smirking a little bit in satisfaction.  "That fix of his hurts like a bitch, but it works damn well." 

 

Sam relaxed and blew out a breath, running a hand over his face.  "Well, I'm glad to hear it," he said, combing his fingers through his hair.  "Make sure the both of you get your asses back here safe and sound." 

 

Dean frowned and looked at the phone in his hand.  "Are you sleeping?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said, glad that his voice didn't crack on the word.  He blinked a few times, his eyes rough and gritty, and he wondered if Dean would even buy the lie this time. 

 

"Bullshit.  You haven't slept since we left, have you?" Dean asked, sighing.  Fuck, he should have known better than to leave Sam alone like that.  Bobby was going to give him hell. 

 

"There's a lot of research to sort through," Sam offered, swallowing hard.  It was a shit excuse as far as some went, but maybe it would be enough to buy him time until Dean and Castiel got back. 

 

Dean tightened his hand around the phone.  He knew when Sam was lying to him and this was one of those times that he was absolutely certain that Sam was lying.  "You get some sleep tonight.  We'll be back tomorrow." 

 

"Dean," Sam said, laughing a little bit.  "I'm fine, I promise.  I've gotten sleep when we were in the car last.  A lot more than you should have given me." 

 

That was one small thing.  But if Sam wasn't sleeping, something else was going on.  "We'll be back tomorrow night.  We've got some ghouls to take care of tonight and then we'll be good." 

 

Castiel touched his arm and Dean looked over at the angel, scowling him, only to realize that he was, concerned?  "What?" he snapped.  He looked back at the phone.  "Not you, Sammy, Cas needed something." 

 

Castiel frowned at the phone and then at Sam.  "Sam is not sleeping?" 

 

"Yeah, it's something we're both familiar with, he'll be fine when we get back, just needs someone to watch his back, that's all," Dean said and turned his attention back to the phone. 

 

"All right," Sam said, coughing into his hand.  He closed his eyes for a second and just like that, there was the fire and other images coming back that had been there before.  "Stay safe and let Cas do his job and protect you if you need it, okay?" 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "You fucking girl." 

 

"Oh fuck off," Sam snapped, grinning into the phone.  "I'll see you in a few hours, now go kick some ass." 

 

"Done," Dean promised, taking a deep breath as he focused on the road in front of him and hung up the phone.  "He's not sleeping," he said, glancing over at Castiel. 

 

"Yes, I did ascertain as much from your conversation.  This is concerning?" 

 

Dean snorted and tightened his hands on the wheel.  "Not particularly.  But he sounds more tired than he should be.  That means something is up." 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "He did just find out that he is the vessel for the devil." 

 

He hadn't needed the reminder of that, but Castiel was oh-so-wonderful in his reminder.  "What does that mean?  That I'm the force of all that is good in the universe as Michael's vessel and Sam is the force of all evil?"

 

Castiel considered his answer and watched as the road passed by them as they returned to the hotel.  Dean parked and Castiel scanned the area for any demons or ghouls and found non.  "No." 

 

"No," Dean repeated, looking at the angel.  "Okay, well that's good to know at least.  If I'm not the force of all good, what the hell are we?" 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Director Singer informed you of your bloodline, did he not?"

 

"Yeah," Dean said, rolling his eyes again as he led the way back to the hotel room.  "I know, the whole Cain and Abel bullshit.  But here's the thing, I don't get it.  Why us?" 

 

"It was-"

 

"Cas, I swear, if you say fucking pre-ordained again..." Dean growled, taking off his tie and tossing it at the bag behind him. 

 

"Very well," Castiel said, and did not bother to finish his answer.  "I am not attempting to anger you Dean.  But this was decided millennia ago.  It simply...is." 

 

Dean huffed and took off his jacket and his holster, falling back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.  He didn't want to think about that.  That he had had no choice in this life and everything was going to come to the point about where he needed to say yes to stop the Devil.  "Why do you want heaven on earth?" 

 

Castiel blinked and stared at the human.  "I'm sorry?" 

 

"Heaven," Dean said, waving a hand.  "The whole battle.  Lucifer brings hell to earth, and obviously that's not a good thing.  Angels want to bring heaven to earth.  Why?  Your heaven isn't good enough?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "I don't know." 

 

Dean laughed and stared at the ceiling, putting his hands behind his head, stretching out, trying to relax.  "So you're destroying all of humankind because you've been told to, and you don't even know why?" 

 

"We are not going to destroy-"

 

"Bringing heaven to earth will destroy us," Dean said, waving at Castiel again.  "Don't deny it, because I've read Revelations." 

 

"An inaccurate description of what will happen," Castiel said, frowning at Dean. 

 

"Right," Dean said, clearing his throat.  Either way, it's not something that we are excited to have happen." 

 

Castiel nodded his head in agreement, looking down at the floor of the hotel room they were in.  He turned to the seat at the table that he had been sitting in before.  "I do not believe that most angels consider your existence relevant to what is happening.  There is Lucifer, and defeating them." 

 

"Right," Dean scoffed.  "We're just the monkeys in the middle of all of this." 

 

Castiel smiled a little bit and looked at Dean.  "Yes." 

 

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  "Right," he growled.  "You can see why I'm not enthusiastic about that option and want to find a different one?"

 

"There isn't one," Castiel said, frowning at the human. 

 

"Of course there is," Dean said easily.  "You have Michael, Lucifer, and then the stalemate." 

 

"If neither of you are willing," Castiel said.  "And Lucifer is released, the world will fall to the horsemen." 

 

Dean shrugged.  "And if we don't release Lucifer?" 

 

Castiel was silent. 

 

Dean lifted a hand from behind his head and pointed at the angel.  "That's our option.  And that's our plan, for now." 

 

"That is not what you have been ordered to do," Castiel said. 

 

"I haven't been ordered to do anything other than lay low and let the old man figure shit out," Dean said, lifting his head just enough to glare at the angel.  "And I am plenty fine doing just that." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "If you were ordered-"

 

"Bobby wouldn't do that to me," Dean said, staring at Cas, refusing to break eye contact with the angel.  "To Sam and I.  We grew up with him.  He's not afraid to order us into dangerous situations where we might die.  But he wouldn't order both of us to our certain death and condemn the entire human race." 

 

"You are certain?" Castiel asked, staring at Dean. 

 

"Yes," Dean said, his voice ringing with certainty.  "Now I’m going to call for pizza so we can get some dinner before we go ghoul hunting.  Want anything?" 

 

"I don't need food," Castiel said, frowning at Dean. 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Wanting and needing are two completely different things.  You should try pizza.  It's one of the best things about humanity that we have to offer to you." 

 

"I don't believe you," Castiel said with a frown, scowling at the human. 

 

Dean grinned.  "We'll see how you feel after a meat lover's pizza." 

 

~!~

 

Sam leaned back in the chair and rubbed his hand over his face.  A flash of fire appeared again and he forced his eyes open as he checked his email, glad when there was something from Bobby.  He picked up his phone and dialed the number of the burner phone Bobby had given him. 

 

"That was quick boy, are you waiting for my emails?" Bobby asked, his voice gruff as he walked into his house. 

 

"Nah," Sam said, leaning back in his chair.  "Just needed a break and the timing was good." 

 

Bobby frowned.  "What's wrong?" 

 

"Nothing," Sam lied, biting down on his tongue.  When the fuck did everyone learn to read him so well? 

 

"I'll believe that precisely never," Bobby shot back, glaring at the wall in front of him since the kid wasn't here to glare at.  "Tell me what's wrong."

 

"I'm Lucifer's vessel.  I'm the one who is perfect for the devil," Sam said.  "How, with all of this mess, don't you-"

 

"Look," Bobby said, settling into his favorite armchair.  "Your brother is far better at this conversation than me.  But you aren't evil, Sam.  Not even Lucifer was evil, remember?  You know the lore." 

 

Sam considered that and tightened his hand on the phone.  "You said that he wouldn't be afraid to torture me if he needed to get me to say yes." 

 

"True," Bobby allowed.  "But Lucifer was only cast down because he disagreed with the rest of his family.  That doesn't sound familiar, does it?" 

 

Sam was silent and bit down on his lip.  "No, not at all." 

 

"Right, so, I figure, circumstantially, and reliability, that's why you're it.  For the same reason Dean is, because he followed your father's orders whether he agreed with them or not." 

 

Sam didn't have anything to say to that.

 

Bobby poured himself a drink and settled back to sip at it.  "What's actually wrong?" 

 

"I'm not sleeping," Sam said, sighing.  "Nightmares." 

 

"Hm," Bobby said.  "Because your brother is out there with Castiel?" 

 

"No," Sam said with a laugh.  "Blood and fire and a voice whispering to me.  Pretty sure it's our favorite king of hell." 

 

Bobby went silent and then gave a large sigh.  "That's the other problem that we have on our hands." 

 

Sam tensed and tightened his hand on the phone.  "What do you mean?" 

 

"Let's say the seals are broken, and Lucifer is released.  Even if the both of you refuse the archangels, we still lose," Bobby said. 

 

"Fuck," Sam swore.  "The horsemen, you're right." 

 

"Of course I am, this is what I'm paid for," Bobby said.  "So not only do we need a plan C, we need a way to prevent the horsemen from ending the world for Lucifer." 

 

"Can they be killed?" Sam asked, biting down on his lip.  He didn't like the idea of going after the four horsemen of the apocalypse, but if they didn't have another option, that was better than another idea. 

 

Bobby snorted.  "Everything can be killed, it's a matter of figuring out exactly how.  That being said, Lucifer, if he is released, depending on those seals, is going to be a bigger problem." 

 

Sam snorted.  "Yeah, all powerful archangel running around probably isn't a good thing." 

 

"Yep, since he's had several thousand years to get remarkably pissed at everyone upstairs," Bobby agreed.  "He's going to come for you, Sam.  And if you're already hearing him in your dreams, this is only going to get worse." 

 

Sam felt the phone crack under the pressure of his hand and he took a deep breath.  "I was afraid of that." 

 

"I'm scared for the both of you," Bobby admitted.  He stared at the wall of the house.  "I don't know how to protect the two of you from this.  I'll do my damndest, but I've got to play both sides here." 

 

"I know, Bobby," Sam said, blowing out another breath.  "And so does Dean.  We know you're on our side." 

 

Bobby's eyes travelled across his bookcase and he sat up a little, staring at one of the titles.  "You bet I am.  And I might have an idea." 

 

Sam sat up immediately.  "An idea?  To do what?" 

 

"To keep your body and soul safe from Lucifer," Bobby said, standing up, striding over to the book in the shelf.  He pulled out the slim volume and started flipping through it.  "You're not going to like it." 

 

"I'd like Lucifer a lot less," Sam quipped. 

 

Bobby snorted out another laugh.  "You got that right.  But let me do some hunting.  I think I know what might be able to save your ass.  Michael's willing to play by the rules to a point.  He's not going to torture Dean if we can somehow get rid of the threat of you and Lucifer." 

 

Sam swallowed hard and nodded.  "Right, so how do we get rid of me without me dying?" 

 

"Dying wouldn't even work, they'd just bring you back," Bobby said, flipping a few more pages.  "No, you need to be very much alive and just...unavailable." 

 

"Why do I not like how you said that?" Sam asked, rubbing a hand over his face again. 

 

"Because you probably aren't going to love this," Bobby said.  "But it's a plan where we didn't have one before. Let me make some calls." 

 

"All right," Sam said, relaxing a little bit.  He shivered and took a deep breath.  "Thanks Bobby." 

 

"You're welcome, kid.  Now stay safe until I can get you an alternative and don't do anything stupid.  Castiel's willing to put his life on the line for the both of you.  Try to respect that." 

 

Sam laughed and smiled.  "I'll remember that, but you might have to remind Dean far more than you are going to have to remind me." 

 

Bobby snorted.  "Yeah, no shit," he agreed, rolling his eyes. 

 

"I'll talk to you later, Bobby," Sam said, getting a grunt in return before the phone clicked in his ear.  Well, that wasn't the best news he'd had all day but it was better than where he had been before.  Options were always a good thing.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

"Dean." 

 

Dean jolted awake, his eyes flying open to stare at the angel standing at the foot of his bed.  "That's fucking creepy, didn't we go over this already?" 

 

"We did," Castiel agreed, looking at the last of the sunlight fading in the window.  "It is time to go to the graveyard." 

 

Dean looked out the window as well and nodded.  "Looks like it is, yes.  All right, let me get my favorite machete, and my gun and get can head out." 

 

"Guns are not going to help you," Castiel said, watching as Dean armed himself. 

 

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes.  "While that is true, sometimes it is just really satisfying to shoot something, and it'll slow them down enough for me to do something else." 

 

Castiel frowned, but nodded and followed Dean out of the room and over to the door.  "As you say." 

 

Dean nodded and led the way out to the parking lot.  "Graveyard isn't far in a town like this, so we'll just walk over.  Look less suspicious that way." 

 

"I have a feeling we will look suspicious no matter what we do," Castiel said, following Dean.

 

"Yeah, that's the fault of your trenchcoat more than me," Dean added, glancing over at Castiel.  "Speaking of trenchcoat." 

 

Castiel looked down at the offending garment and then up at Dean.  "Yes?" 

 

"Whose clothes are those?  I mean, you don't look like, like _that_?  As a human, or something?  Aren't you not human?"  Dean cursed himself, because that was the most inarticulate way to describe what he was asking, but maybe Castiel would get the gist. 

 

"This is my vessel," Castiel said, holding out the trenchcoat.  "This is what he was last wearing." 

 

Dean scowled.  "So you took over someone's body just like Michael wants to do to me?" 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "He gave permission for me to use his vessel as he no longer had need of it." 

 

Dean blinked and his face darkened.  "What the hell does that mean?" 

 

Castiel stopped in the street and looked at Dean, his face impassive and calm.  "It means that the owner of this vessel was in a car accident.  In exchange for healing his wife and daughter, he gave me his body.  He would not have survived." 

 

"So," Dean said, clearing his throat.  "You, you took his body?  What happened to, to him?" 

 

"He's in heaven," Castiel said, studying Dean as they started to walk again.  "I can give you his name, and the name of his family, if you would like to ensure that I am telling the truth about what happened." 

 

"Yes," Dean said, giving a firm nod.  "But, so, he's not in there?  In you?  Or whatever happens to souls when an angel jumps in them." 

 

"No," Castiel said, shaking his head.  "Jimmy was my one true vessel.  If an angel possesses a vessel that is not a true one, it will deteriorate as they are burned from the inside out." 

 

Dean turned a corner and nodded politely to the couple that they passed.  "Well that's lovely." 

 

"However, in a true vessel, that won't happen," Castiel said.  "The body will contain me for as long as I need to use it.  And while it can become injured, I can heal it just as quickly as it is damaged." 

 

"How often are you going to be using it?" Dean asked, looking back over at the angel.  "I mean, what happens to it when it is not with you?  Do you just leave an empty meatsuit lying around somewhere?" 

 

Castiel frowned and tilted his head.  "I carry it with me, of course, to ensure that it is not taken or hurt by humans." 

 

Dean blinked and opened his mouth, taking a second to process that.  "You take it with you?  How?  I mean, you're carrying something the same size as you?" he could see the graveyard at the end of the next block and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking faster. 

 

"My actual height is approximately the size of your Chrysler building," Castiel said, looking over at Dean. 

 

Dean choked on his next breath of air and stared at the man next to him, trying to match those two ideas together, his brain refusing to cooperate with the image.  That just didn't make any fucking sense, whatsoever.  "You're, you're, how the fuck do you fit?" 

 

Castiel gave a hint of a smile.  "Magic." 

 

Dean narrowed his eyes, this time catching on to the hint of humor from Castiel.  "Fucking with me again?" 

 

Castiel didn't answer, merely stopped at the gate in front of the graveyard. 

 

Dean growled and stopped beside him, looking around before he opened the gate and slipped in.  "Come on then, mister humorous, let's go.  We've got some ghouls to gank." 

 

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel said, closing the gate behind him. 

 

Dean crept into the graveyard and carefully kept the machete in his hand.  "So, you know how ghouls work, right?" 

 

"Decapitation, they can take the form of any that they have touched," Castiel recited, looking around.  "We appear to be alone." 

 

"Yeah, I have a feeling it won't be that way for long," Dean said, leading the way deeper into the graveyard.  "We'll need to look like we're alone." 

 

"We are alone." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and stared up at heaven.  Why, why was he the one stuck with the angel?  Was God playing some sort of cosmic joke on him?  He sighed and took another deep breath. "Come on." 

 

Castiel nodded and followed Dean deeper into the graveyard, looking around for the sight of any other humans.  There were not any that he could see in the vicinity, but his grace itched with the idea that they were being watched again.  "Dean," he called, frowning as he looked around. 

 

"Yeah," Dean managed, scowling when he saw that Cas was staring upward.  "Let me guess, you're being called away again?"

 

"No," Castiel said, shaking his head.  "However, there is someone watching us." 

 

Dean tightened his hand on the machete.  "Well, that's the point, we're bait for the ghouls." 

 

"How do you know they'll be here?" Castiel asked. 

 

Dean froze as he heard the sound of munching and felt his stomach roll.  He pressed hand to Cas' chest and stopped to listen.  "Look," he said softly. 

 

Castiel followed Dean's gaze and frowned at the sight of a man bent over a grave, dirt and wood piled around him, flesh hanging from his mouth.  "Ah, that is the recently deceased that we met earlier today." 

 

"Yep," Dean said, starting to walk again, slowly.  "He's going to notice and charge us in a second." 

 

Castiel frowned when the sound of a crow came again.  "Dean, we have-"

 

"Shhh," Dean hissed, glaring at Castiel as they started to walk closer.  Luckily, it appeared that the ghoul did not notice them yet, but _fuck_ , they needed to be more careful than that, or they were going to be caught. 

 

Castiel kept his eyes skyward and let Dean lead them forward, focusing on keeping his steps silent.  Dean, for all that he was human, moved quietly, his weapon held out in front of him. 

 

Castiel turned his attention to the entrance to the graveyard.  There was a low fog rolling in around them.  His grace recoiled from it and tossed within him.  Something was approaching, beyond just the ghouls.  "Dean," he said, keeping his voice quiet. 

 

Dean cursed when the ghoul's eyes swung to him and it dropped the carcass it had been feasting on.  "Jig is up!" he shouted, watching the ghoul race for them.  "Cas, get ready!"

 

Castiel shifted and turned his back to Dean, pressing them together.  "The demons have returned," he said, watching several figures walk out of the fog behind him.  "As I suspected, this was a trap." 

 

"All right," Dean said, tightening his hand on the machete.  "I'll take care of the ghoul, you get the demons." 

 

"An inelegant plan at best," Castiel deadpanned. 

 

"Yeah, well, it's the one we've fucking got!  Shout if you need help!" Dean yelled, charging towards the ghoul. 

 

Castiel turned his attention back to the demons and faced them.  He let his grace expand, his wings flashing against the graves and trees behind him.  The demons paused.  He dropped his angel blade into his hand and held it loosely. 

 

"An angel!" 

 

"We weren't told there'd be an angel!" 

 

"We can't take an angel!" 

 

"Silence," Another demon hissed, walking forward, her hips swinging.  "Castiel, isn’t it?  The angel assigned as the protection of Dean Winchester?" 

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow at her, and in a flash, there were hints of another timeline, another world where he had known her, known her name, had history not been thrown off the course it was on.  He said nothing.  This demon was dangerous, and she knew her role. 

 

"Ah, so it is the little angel that could.  Do you truly think that you are a match for six of us, without the might of your garrison to come down when you call?" she goaded, walking closer. 

 

Castiel tightened his hand on his blade, narrowing his eyes at her.  No demon should have known that his garrison had been temporarily reassigned.  She was possibly making a guess, but it was an accurate one and spoke to information that she should not have.  "I am more than capable of dispensing of you all." 

 

The sound of Dean being hit by the ghoul, and a low grunt of pain echoed behind him and Castiel did not risk turning his attention away from the demons in front of him. 

 

"So you are going to let him die while you remain in a stand off with us?" She teased.  "Somehow I don't think that's your job, little angel." 

 

Castiel stepped closer to her, stretching his grace outside his vessel, watching the demon's skin start to burn at the touch of pure grace.  "I have no intention of remaining in a standoff.  I will send you all back to hell where you belong." 

 

In an instant, he moved, pressing his hand to the forehead of a demon, a flash of grace lighting the graveyard as he spun away from another demon, his blade clashing with the knife they held.  Another few words of exorcism and the demon dropped to the ground, black smoke surrounding him. 

 

"You'll pay for that!" The she-demon screeched, lurching for him. 

 

~!~

 

Dean grunted as he was thrown into another tree, ducking under the swing of the ghoul.  "You are a fugly bastard, you know that?" he said, holding the machete out in front of him.  A flash of light across the graveyard was enough to distract the ghoul for a precious few seconds.  Dean reached out and swung, the sharpened machete cutting through the flesh and spinal cord of the ghoul until his head was lolling on the ground. 

 

He scowled at the black blood on his favorite machete and glared at the corpse. "Learn to pay attention," he spat, spitting on the bastard.  He took a deep breath and started jogging to where he could see the flashes of light coming from the other end of the field. 

 

A spin of a tan trenchcoat made him push into a full out run and he broke past a small line of trees to see Castiel fighting against three demons at once, a flash of a silver weapon and white light coming from him every few seconds.  Dean felt that same wash of warmth from before and knew it was Castiel. 

 

"Well, well, if it isn't little Dean Winchester, far away from his protector," A female voice drawled. 

 

Dean turned to her and held the blade out in front of him.  "And oh look, one demon that Cas hasn't had the chance to bounce back to hell yet," he drawled.  "Am I supposed to feel threatened?" 

 

She smirked and sauntered closer to him.  "No, not by little old me, of course.  But you know, there are things we could give you, Dean.  Things that you have wished for, if you were only to give up your soul..." 

 

Dean laughed and pulled out his gun, pointing it at her.  "I don't think so sweetheart."  A glance out of the corner of his eye told him that the fight was now two to one, one of the demons lying at Castiel's feet, black smoke starting to surround him.  He took a deep breath and focused on the demon in front of him. 

 

"Really?" she said.  "Even if I told you that I could end this?  That I knew how to bind your soul to something so no angel could ever take advantage of you?" 

 

"I'd say that you are working for the devil," Dean snapped, raising his gun to her face.  "And I'm not going to trust a single thing you tell me." 

 

"Smart man," she praised.  "But bullets aren't going to do a single thing against me." 

 

Dean dropped the machete and yanked the holy water out of his pocket and threw it at her, watching as her skin started to burn.  "You're right, the gun might, if these were normal bullets," he added, firing a shot at her. 

 

"You'll kill this vessel," she snapped, glaring at him, wiping frantically at her face. 

 

Dean's face fell and he raised his gun at where her flesh was melting away.  "I will, and she will be one in a long list of death's I wish I could have prevented," he said as he raised the trigger and shot.  She felt to the ground in a crumple and Dean watched the black smoke disappear only moments later. 

 

He sighed and dropped his gun and looked over at where Castiel was standing amidst the bodies.  "Nice job!" he called.  Bright blue eyes met his and Dean couldn't help the shiver that went from his toes to his head as Cas advanced on him.  He could _feel_ just how much more Castiel was like this and he was breathing hard when the angel stopped inches from him. 

 

"You are injured," Castiel said, his voice soft.  "I will heal you." 

 

Dean grabbed Castiel's forearm before the angel could touch him and gasped as the handprint started burning again.  It wasn't painful, but his entire body felt heated and he swayed a little bit, leaning into the angel.  "Fuck, what the fuck is this-"

 

"Hold on," Castiel ordered, pressing a finger to Dean's forehead, transporting them back to the hotel room that they were staying in for the evening. 

 

The entire world spun and Dean felt his stomach sink until he felt like he was going to be sick, and then they were standing on solid ground again.  He blinked his eyes open.  The burning had stopped, at least for now.  He took a deep breath and pushed his hair out of his eyes and stared at the ceiling.  "What the fuck did you just do to us?" 

 

"Transported us back to the hotel," Castiel said, taking a step back from Dean.  He had healed any of the damage that Dean had taken, but his soul was still reaching out for him, desperate for the touch of his grace.  Castiel frowned.  How was it possible that a soul reacted so differently from the conscious mind of the owner?  "Are you all right?" 

 

Dean reached out and pressed his hand to the handprint, glad that it was at least no longer burning him.  He nodded and forced a smile to his face.  "Yeah, good as I am going to get for the time being.  How about you?  How are you doing, Cas?" 

 

Castiel nodded.  "Very well, Dean, thank you." 

 

Dean looked down at the weapon that was still being held in Cas' hand.  "What is that thing?" 

 

"My angel blade," Castiel said.  In another instant it was clean, the metal shining bright. 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, taking a step back from Castiel.  "There's a dick joke to be made there, but if I made it, you wouldn't get it, would you?" A raised eyebrow was all he received in return and he grinned, rubbing a hand through his hair. 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "What do we do now?" 

 

"Now?" Dean said, kicking up his feet and relaxing.  "We eat some of that leftover pizza, have some beer and celebrate a case solved!" 

 

"The demons came back for you," Castiel said.  He remembered what the she-demon had said and frowned.  "You killed her vessel, not her?" 

 

Dean sighed.  "Yeah.  Didn't have enough time to get the exorcism off." 

 

Castiel nodded.  They would see her again.  "If you see that same demon again, it is important that you tell me." 

 

Dean raised an eyebrow as he stripped off his jacket and dropped it to the bed.  "Why?  She special?" 

 

"She knew of my orders to remain with you.  And that my assignment had changed," Castiel said, looking at the warding he had placed on the walls, double checking its effectiveness, concerned that someone may have overheard them talking. 

 

Dean froze and looked at the angel.  Methodically, he took the gun apart, working through cleaning it.  "That's not good, is it?" 

 

"No," Castiel said.  "There are not many ways she could have found out the information.  None of the ways that she could have are good for you and your mission." 

 

"My _mission_ ," Dean said, scoffing a little bit.  "You make it sound so official.  We're saving the world, that's all there is to it." 

 

Castiel inclined his head.  "Perhaps.  Even still, I need to discover how she was able to come by that information." 

 

Dean nodded.  "Probably good idea for us to head to the bar then.  I might as well have a night among people since it looks like we are going to be holing up for the remainder of the future." 

 

Castiel inclined his head.  "Take your weapon with you, if you are going to leave this evening." 

 

"You got it," Dean said, grabbing another of the vials of holy water as well.  Couldn't be too careful in this case.  Especially since it had worked well earlier.  He took a deep breath and stripped off his sweater too, taking a quick sniff of himself.  "Excellent, don't smell like ghoul blood." 

 

Castiel watched the ritual, bemused, as Dean grabbed a few more items that he deemed pertinent before heading for the door.  "Is there anything else that you require?" 

 

"Nope," Dean said, grinning at the angel.  "Don't plan on being my wingman though, I'm good enough that I don't need one." 

 

Castiel squinted at Dean.  "Is that an attempt at humor regarding my species, Dean?" 

 

Dean blinked and then burst out laughing, leaning against the doorframe.  "It wasn't, but it works so perfectly, I'm going to pretend that it was!" He opened the door and gave Castiel a wave.  "Don't wait up for me, Cas!  And if I bring back company, fuck off, would ya?" 

 

"Company is dis-" Dean slammed the door shut and Castiel frowned at it.  In an instant, he made himself invisible and followed Dean.  If the human would not allow him to keep him safe via normal means, he would make do with others. 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter due to the delay in posting schedule thanks to, you know, life!

 

Dean grinned and made sure that he wasn't being followed by the errant angel before he headed for the bar that Aaron had mentioned earlier.  Not like he was planning to get laid tonight, but since it ruffled Castiel's proverbial feathers, it was fun to pretend for the time being. 

 

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, scanning the unfamiliar faces.  Now that he wasn't in the suit and tie, most dismissed him and went back to their food and drinks. 

 

"Agent Stark," Aaron called, offering a wave from a table off to the side. 

 

Dean grinned at him and immediately walked over to his table.  "Aaron, hey." 

 

Aaron beamed and settled back into his seat.  "I'm sorry, I didn't actually expect you to take me up on my offer to join me for a drink."

 

Dean winked at him.  He didn't actively pick up men, but he knew that he was a type that some guys went for, and hey, if it got him free liquor, then he'd flirt endlessly with someone.  "I was free and in this area of town tonight." 

 

"How's the case going?" Aaron asked, waving for another beer. 

 

Dean smiled at him.  "You know I can't discuss an on-going investigation.  But good, so far.  Think we've got a lead on what happened, and we might be able to lock this up quicker than we thought." 

 

Aaron lit up and took a sip of his beer.  "Wow, that's awesome!  No wonder they sent you out here if you were able to figure things out that quickly!" 

 

Dean grinned back at him and nodded at the bartender when he dropped off another of the beers.  "Just takes practice.  I've been doing this job for a long time." 

 

"Clearly," Aaron said.  He coughed and took a sip of his beer.  "I mean, obviously you have, since you're that good." 

 

Dean laughed and ignored the slowly growing sting of the handprint.  He'd have to get Castiel to do whatever he had done to it before to make it stop bothering him.  "Well, I like to think I'm pretty good, and my boss takes me down a peg since that's his job and all." 

 

Aaron chuckled and took another gulp of his beer.  "Yeah, I know, my boss is the same way.  Says I'm too eager." 

 

"Hey," Dean said, pointing the bottle at him.  "Eagerness is a good thing.  Settling into the job to the point where you ignore what is sometimes the obvious is one of the biggest reasons we have unsolved crimes." 

 

Aaron's eyes went wide.  "Yeah?" 

 

Dean nodded and sipped at his beer.  "Yeah, this job doesn't make time for much else.  It just, it ends up being, your world." 

 

"I can see that," Aaron said, smiling at him.  "But you're excellent at it, regardless of the reasons." 

 

"Thanks," Dean said, smiling at him as he relaxed into the seat.  If there was one thing he did love about having an angel on these cases with him, it was the fact that he wasn't sore at all from being tossed around by the damn ghoul.  In any other circumstance he would have been in a hell of a lot of pain. 

 

They sat in companionable silence, both of them sipping their beers and watching the show on the television.  Dean smiled at it and thought that maybe this is what retirement might feel like if he would ever be convinced that that was a good idea.  Extremely unlikely, but it was nice to have the pipe dream from time to time. 

 

"Hey Dean," Aaron said.  "I've got to head out."  He waved for the tab.  "Work tomorrow." 

 

Dean smiled and stood up.  "Yeah, I should probably hit the hay.  Have to drive back to the branch office tomorrow."

 

Aaron smiled and raised his drink.  “To your world, agent.” 

 

Dean bumped the nearby table as he backed away and tried not to blush.  “I, uh…”

 

“You have a good night.” 

 

Dean cleared his throat.  “You, you have a-” he hit another table and stumbled.  “Okay,” he added and turned away to leave the bar, his ears red and bright.

 

"He is sexually attracted to you, aren't you to him?" Castiel asked, appearing next to him in an instant.

 

Dean jumped away from the angel and glared at him, frowning.  "I am not attracted to him!" 

 

Castiel tilted his head and stared at the other person next to him.  "Are you quite certain of that?  Your face and bodily reactions indicate otherwise." 

 

"Fuck off!" Dean growled, stalking past Cas, heading down the street.  He heard the angel start following him not long after and he pushed his fingers through his hair, trying to focus.  Fuck, but he didn't want to think about that, or know that the angel was thinking those sorts of things of him. 

 

He took a deep breath and found Cas nearly bumping arms with him, scowling.  "Are you still spying on me and my reactions?" 

 

"I may be," Castiel allowed, frowning again.  "However, as this clearly causes you some distress, I can-"

 

"Yeah, if you could stop fucking doing that, that would be amazing," Dean snarled, glaring at the angel.  "I don't need you to tell me who I am or am not attracted to." 

 

Castiel studied the human in front of him and nodded.  "Very well.  I apologize for intruding on your privacy, Dean." 

 

"Somehow I don't think you're all that sorry," Dean grumbled, glaring at the angel before he rolled his shoulders.  "But I need to get my four hours and then we can head back to the bunker.  I'm sure that you want some time away from me as well." 

 

"Why would I want time away from you?" Castiel asked, frowning at Dean.  The human was so confusing and didn't make any sense. 

 

Dean blinked.  "Because you've been looking over me non-stop, and Sam for the past few days.  Don't you want a break?" 

 

Castiel frowned and shook his head.  "A break could result in injury for you both, it is not recommended." 

 

Dean barked out a laugh and frowned a little bit.  "I mean, Cas, you don't have to babysit us as often as you are." 

 

"Yes I do," Castiel said, striding beside Dean as they walked back towards the hotel that Dean had chosen for the evening. 

 

"No," Dean said.  "You really don't.  You think that you do, but I assure you, I absolutely do not need you to follow the both of us around." 

 

"And if you are attacked by demons again?" Castiel growled, glaring at the stubborn human next to him. 

 

Dean glared back at the angel.  "Then I'll figure something out just like I have been the past twenty years without your ass hovering over me!"

 

Castiel didn't respond and followed Dean into the hotel, closing the door behind him, watching as Dean paced across the room, his energy clearly pent up.  He frowned.  "You should have engaged in sexual intercourse with Aaron this evening, he was willing." 

 

"I, I'm not-" Dean bit off the words and growled under his breath.  "No, I should not have!"  Even though a nice hard fuck sounded exactly like what he wanted right now.  He turned and blue eyes were staring at him, piercing into his soul and he swallowed hard.  "I am not going to do anything tonight." 

 

"You have too much energy to sleep well," Castiel pointed out, frowning at him. 

 

Dean shrugged and sat down at the edge of the bed, picking up the gun that he had cleaned earlier, doing a mental inventory of any other weapons that needed to be clean.  At least it would keep his hands busy.  "Then talk to me, angel boy." 

 

"About what?" 

 

Dean scowled and pulled out the brushes that he needed and oil, setting it on the table beside him, disassembling the gun.  "Anything, pick a topic." 

 

"I see," Castiel said, a frown still on his face.  "What is personal space and why do you constantly ask me for it?" 

 

Dean groaned and paused in his cleaning, focusing on the angel again for a second.  "Fuck, I already explained the bubble thing to you." 

 

"You did," Castiel agreed, staring at him for a long moment.  "However, I am struggling to understand what is appropriate amounts of space." 

 

Dean kept cleaning and tried to think of another way to explain it.  "Give most people at least a two to three foot birth.  If you're walking side by side it's a little bit easier, but if you're standing around, anything closer to that becomes concerning." 

 

Castiel tilted his head and stared at the human.  This sort of logic didn't make sense.  How was he supposed to make any sense of it?  He sat down on the queen bed across from Dean.  "Why did you order two beds?" 

 

Dean grunted.  "Habit." 

 

"When will we head back in the morning?" 

 

Dean raised his eyes to Castiel and found bright blue eyes boring into his and he cleared his throat.  "I don't know.  Early.  I probably won't sleep much." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "Why?  I can help you sleep, heal you and make sure that everything is all right.  Are you unwell?  Are you injured?" 

 

"Woah, woah," Dean said, holding up his hands at the angel.  "Slow the hell down there.  I'm fine, I'm going to be fine.  I'm keyed up after the hunt, that's all.  If we weren't this far, I'd suggest driving tonight-"

 

"Driving overnight increases the chances of you injuring yourself by-"

 

"I know," Dean snapped, glaring at the angel in front of him.  "I've also done it enough times that I know what I'm doing and when I can or cannot do something like that." 

 

Castiel said nothing and narrowed his eyes.  "Then I shall leave you?" 

 

"Yes," Dean said, looking up at the angel again.  "You've warded the room and everything.  I'm safe for the night.  Right?" 

 

Castiel nodded and studied the protection that was carved into Dean's ribs and considered the words that the demon had sneered at him earlier.  "You are safe as you can be for the time being.  No demon can enter this room without my knowledge and I would be here the second it happened if one tried." 

 

"Because that's not fucking creepy," Dean grumbled, glaring at the angel in front of him. 

 

Castiel tilted his head and stood up.  "I will see you tomorrow morning, Dean."

 

Dean watched the angel disappear and sighed, sagging back into the pillows, dropping the supplies from his hands.  Silence and peace at last. 

 

The face of the woman that he had shot earlier, who died because a demon had possessed her swam in front of him and he groaned, walking over to his duffel, pulling out the fifth of whiskey that he had stashed in there last night.  He took a swig, several messy swallows and did his absolute best not to think about the angel who was probably spying on him while invisible. 

 

~!~

 

Dean Winchester drank until he was not able to drink any longer.  Castiel frowned at the sight of him, passed out against the blankets and scowled.  Stubborn human.  He should have accepted help. 

 

Perhaps though, that stubbornness would serve him well in his determination to remain unused as a vessel.  He was unique.  His conviction and certainty about the future was disconcerting at best. 

 

He would need to understand precisely what could be done to make sure that Dean obeyed the orders from heaven and accepted Michael in him in order to stop the devil.  Castiel could not fight the certainty that no matter the situation, Dean would not say yes as heaven had ordained and planned for him. 

 

Which meant that there would be another approach outside of him that would involve Dean being tortured and hurt. 

 

Castiel frowned and shook his head.  His grace revolted at the idea of Dean being injured.  Dean's soul was so bright and shining, powerful enough to be the one to hold the archangel Michael, first born of God.  He would fall into what his destiny was. 

 

He would.  If only because there was no other option to ensure that the world did not end up in complete chaos as Hell descended to earth. 

 

~!~

 

Dean settled into the front seat of the car, glad that the angel hadn't been anywhere to be seen over the course of the morning.  He thought about calling Castiel, but he wanted to get on the road, after he managed breakfast. 

 

"Dean." 

 

Dean tightened his fingers around the keys and scowled.  So much for getting out of here before the angel could find him again.  He took a deep breath and did his best to focus elsewhere.  "Yeah, Cas?" 

 

"You are departing?" Castiel asked. 

 

"Yes," Dean said, striding to the Impala, throwing his bag into the backseat, sliding into the front.  Castiel appeared next to him a moment later and Dean tightened his hands on the steering wheel.  He wasn't sure that he was ever going to get used to that. 

 

"I require another way to contact you.  I can no longer see your soul when I am not close to you," Castiel said, squinting at the human next to him. 

 

Dean laughed and leaned back in the seat.  At least he knew that he was invisible to both the dicks and the demons.  A small reassurance.  Now they just needed to make sure that Sam was as well.  If they could both get this protection that Castiel had given him, then they would be in a very good place. 

 

"Why are you laughing?" Castiel asked, frowning at Dean. 

 

"I'm laughing, because I have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to tell an angel of the lord that he needs to pick up a cell phone," Dean said, glancing over at Cas.  "I'm pretty sure that I have a few spares that you can use." 

 

Castiel tilted his head.  "A cell phone?" 

 

"Yeah, if you want another way to contact me, a cell phone is going to be the best way to do it," Dean said, stretching out his legs as he hit the highway, relaxing back into his seat.  This was what he lived for.  Now if only he didn't have a babysitter that was lurking over him. 

 

"Very well," Castiel said.  "I will need your help obtaining one of these cell phones." 

 

"No problem, Sam can set you up with one as soon as we are back to the bunker," Dean said, clearing his throat.  He focused on the open road and let himself relax into the easy rhythm of driving.  "Maybe he even has another case for us." 

 

"You should stay there, where you are safest," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes at him.  "The demons will become desperate at some point and would likely try to take advantage of you." 

 

Dean shrugged and leaned back into the seat.  "They've been trying to take advantage of me for years and years now.  I mean, it's not like Sam and I are strangers to the monsters under the bed trying to kill us." 

 

Castiel said nothing and stared at the human beside him.  It was a matter of convincing Dean that destroying some small monsters would not be worth risking his life. 

 

"Hell, maybe you and Sam should go out on a case together.  As long as you promise not to call him an abomination again, or he'll kick your ass," Dean said, grinning. 

 

"I do not want to go out on a hunt with either of you," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes.  "You are intent on throwing yourselves into danger and do not accept that there are some things that you should let lie-"

 

Dean rolled his eyes.  "If there are people dying, Cas, we're going to do our best to save them.  That's our job." 

 

Castiel turned to stare heavenward and lost himself in the comforting song of his brothers and sisters.  Dean Winchester was infuriating and refused to listen to any sort of logic. 

 

Dean shrugged when Castiel didn't respond and guessed that that was the end of the argument, at least for now.  Hopefully Sam would have a case for them.  He pressed down a little harder on the throttle.  They needed to get back and get this whole protection schtick carved into Sam's ribs to help protect him. 

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

He made it back to the bunker in record time, pulling into the driveway.  Castiel hadn't said anything for the last few hours, but Dean had turned up the music and lost himself in some of his favorite heavy rock.  It was better than the angel trying to make more awkward conversation because he thought that it was the right thing to do. 

 

"Sammy!  We're home!" 

 

Dean relaxed when he saw Sam sitting at the large table at the base of the stairs, books surrounding him, spread out in all directions.  It was a comforting sight, one that he loved, and dammit it all to fucking hell, that he was going to miss. 

 

"Welcome back, Dean," Sam said, looking up at his brother and grinning.  "Ghouls give you any trouble?" 

 

"No-"

 

"Yes-"

 

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked between Dean and the angel.  "Uh, did you two have two different cases, or something?"

 

Castiel scowled at the human next to him.  "Demons had tricked the ghouls into reappearing and used them as bait to lure out Dean.  They attacked while Dean was dispatching it." 

 

Sam's eyes widened.  "They what?  Dean!  Why the fuck didn't you call me and tell me!  Are you all right?" 

 

"Oh fuck off," Dean grumbled, glaring at Castiel.  "We're fine, my angelic protection squad took great care of me, and now we're home and safe and everything is good, right?" 

 

Sam scowled and glared at him.  "You should have called me and told me!" 

 

"What, so you could worry the whole time I was driving home Samantha?" Dean drawled, walking over to Sam, clapping him on the back.  "I promise that I'm fine, everything is okay, and now we just need to focus on getting the end of the world figured out." 

 

Sam relaxed a fraction and turned back to the books.  "Speaking of the end of the world, I've found some very interesting lore about the horsemen." 

 

Dean perked up immediately and joined Sam at the side of the table, looking at the book he was pointing to. 

 

Castiel observed the two humans and how they began talking excitedly about the horsemen and the potential to kill them all.  It was clear that they found excitement in the ways to thwart the designed plan.  He tilted his head and watched as they traded ideas off of each other, Sam jotting down notes and nodding as they spoke together. 

 

"Death you cannot kill," Castiel said, after they had discussed the other three.

 

"Bullshit," Dean said.  "There's always a way to kill things." 

 

Castiel frowned.  "No, there is not.  He _is_ death." 

 

Dean shrugged.  "Okay, so we figure Death out later, we've got a solid plan for the other three if they end up showing up any time in the future." 

 

"They will only arise and begin attacking once Lucifer is free," Castiel said.  "Which will not happen if you both stay here and stay safe." 

 

Dean barked out a laugh.  "Yeah, that's not going to happen.  We're going to do whatever we need to do.  Sammy's already found us a hunt, and he's neck-deep in research, so you and I are going off together again, unless you want to let me go by myself." 

 

"I will not allow you to go alone," Castiel said.  "You both need to remain here and stay safe." 

 

Dean shook his head and adjusted the bag on his shoulder.  "Sam, let him know he's not going to win this argument and I'm going to take a shower and get some proper sleep." 

 

Sam waved Dean off and turned to the books.  He expected Castiel, as soon as Dean was gone, to begin arguing with him.  Instead the angel only offered different opinions on translations.  Sam relaxed, glad that he hadn't courted an argument with the person they were supposed to be stalling until they found a better solution. 

 

~!~

 

Castiel watched Dean pace angrily across the bunker, listening to Sam describe the case that they were going to be going to shortly.  In the three months that he had been with the Winchesters, a number of monsters in the area had been found and dispatched. 

 

"You need to come with us.  You haven't left this bunker-" 

 

"I've left the damn bunker," Sam snapped.  "Just because I'm not going gallivanting off on hunts with you and the angel-"

 

"Sam," Castiel said, his voice a tad reproachful. 

 

Sam sighed and looked at Castiel and then his brother.  He rubbed a hand over his face.  His lack of sleeping had gotten even worse.  Every night his dreams were fire and hints of blood, and a low, curling voice reminding him that he only had to say one word, one word, and he would be given everything he could ever dream of.  "I'm sorry," he managed. 

 

"See, this is why you need to get out," Dean said, studying his little brother.  "This shit is starting to eat away at you, Sam.  You need to get out." 

 

Sam shook his head and focused on the books that were spread out in front of him and took a deep breath.  "No, no, that's exactly what I do not need to do.  Because if I do that, then we're going to miss something that we can't afford to miss.  There's so much to go through here Dean, we need to make sure that we get through as much of it as possible." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and looked over at Cas.  "Looks like it's you and I again Cas.  You coming?" 

 

"Of course, Dean," Castiel said.  He frowned at Sam and studied the bags under his eyes and the ways his shoulders started to slump as soon as Dean's back was turned.  "Sam-" 

 

"Go," Sam said, nodding towards the door, where Dean was already climbing the stairs, leaving the both of them behind.  "I got this," he reassured. 

 

Castiel frowned, but reappeared next to the Impala, waiting for Dean to leave the bunker.  Dean did only moments later, a scowl on his face.  "You are worried about Sam." 

 

"Of course I'm worried about thee kid.  He's not sleeping, he's exhausted, and I have a feeling there's something he's not telling me," Dean said, striding towards the front seat.  "But if there's one thing that kid is good at, it's keeping secrets.  He learned it from me, after all, which means that he is." 

 

"What secrets could he be keeping?" Castiel asked, climbing into the front seat. 

 

"I don't know, and that's the biggest problem," Dean said, taking a deep breath as he relaxed into the comfortable leather of the front seat.  "But we have a case to get to, so let's get going, shall we?" 

 

"Yes," Castiel agreed, letting Dean go ahead. 

 

~!~

 

Sam dropped his face into his hands as soon as he heard the Impala pull out of the driveway.  He needed to pull his shit together or Dean was going to start noticing something was really wrong. 

 

His phone rang a few minutes later and Sam picked it up, glad to see that it was Bobby.  He flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear.  "Tell me you have good news." 

 

"Do you think I would have waited a month before calling you if I had good news?" Bobby asked. 

 

Sam sagged into the chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes.  "How bad are things?" 

 

Bobby hesitated and looked at the rest of his office.  He knew it was clear.  He'd figured out a way to ward his office, and despite their grumbling about it, there was nothing that the angels could do, short of sending a demon in, which would have been caught anyways.  "Bad, kid." 

 

Sam blew out a breath.  "It's the end of the world, Bobby.  You're telling me it's worse than the end of the world?" 

 

"I'm telling you that it's possible upstairs and downstairs are working together against us."

 

"Jesus," Sam swore, clenching his eyes shut.  "Are you sure?" 

 

"No," Bobby said, his voice grim.  "Half of the folks upstairs are playing by the rules, and the other half aren't, and none of them are giving me the same message.  Based on a few of the things that I have heard and thought through, we're in trouble on both sides." 

 

Sam took a few deep breaths and stared at the ceiling of the bunker.  "I want to tell you that I have good information here, Bobby, but it's so scattered, I can't make any sense of it whatsoever." 

 

Bobby blew out a hard breath and frowned at the wall.  "I was afraid of that.  There's plenty of information for you, but not nearly enough to be useful, right?"

 

"There's some good information on the horsemen, but about releasing Lucifer, or Michael, or the seals, there's nothing that I can find outside of the usual biblical lore," Sam managed, flipping through another book.  "There's too much here." 

 

Bobby took a deep breath and tried to figure out what he was supposed to do.  "On one hand I do have good news for you." 

 

Sam relaxed a fraction.  "What do you have for me?"

 

"I have a way to keep your soul protected from Lucifer, but you aren't going to like it," Bobby said.  "Here's the plan, though." 

 

"I'll take a plan over twiddling our thumbs, taking small cases and waiting for the world to end," Sam shot back, taking another deep breath.  "Talk to me.  What's going on?" 

 

~!~

 

Castiel looked from Dean to the woman they were interrogating.  He leaned back and stared at the human.  “I’ve done research, I can crack her.” 

 

Dean didn’t have a second to understand exactly what that meant until Castiel was leaning forward, his face contorting into fury. 

 

"Why did you kill your husband?!" Castiel snapped, slamming his hands to the table. 

 

"Agent Stills!" Dean snapped, walking in front of Castiel, looking at the terrified woman.  He offered her a smile.  "I apologize, we've had a rough couple of nights, as I'm sure you have too." 

 

The woman relaxed as soon as Castiel had backed away from him and Dean took another deep breath, trying to focus on what she had to say about the death of her husband. 

 

When he was finished, he walked out and shoved Castiel.  "What the fuck was that, Cas?  You almost blew the damn case for us back there?" 

 

Castiel frowned at Dean.  "I was attempting to play "Bad Cop" as you did in our last case.  It was used very effectively." 

 

Dean snorted and rubbed a hand over his face as he led the way to the car.  "I'm glad to hear that, but honestly, that's the damn wrong scenario to use it in.  She was terrified-" 

 

"I thought the point was to scare so the other could come in and take care of you," Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"Yeah, but not with someone who recently lost someone close, like that," Dean said.  "She didn't know anything, not really.  She just lost someone and is hurting and you come in, she was fucking terrified." 

 

Castiel scowled a little bit.  "I do not understand." 

 

"I've noticed," Dean said, opening the door to his car.  "But now we know what we need to kill-"

 

"Dean, you should call your brother," Castiel frowned, looking up at the sky, watching clouds start to roll in.

 

Dean blinked at the interruption and scowled at Castiel.  "Why the hell do I need to call Sam?  Is something wrong?  How can you tell?" 

 

Castiel stepped out into the open parking lot and continued to stare up at the sky.  "Call him, Dean." 

 

Dean was about to protest again, but Castiel disappeared and there was a thunderclap in the sky.  Dean climbed into the car and pulled out his phone, dialing his brother's phone number. 

 

"Dean!" Sam said, relaxing as soon as he saw the name on the phone.  "I was about to call you, you need to get back here, now!" 

 

Seconds later, torrents of rain began to fall around the car.  Dean slammed the key into the ignition and gunned it the hell out of the parking lot, working his way towards the highway.  "What the hell is going on?  Cas disappeared, and told me to call you-"

 

"You are about to be in the middle of an epic shitstorm, get as far away as you can!" Sam paced across the room, tugging nervously at his hair as he watched the weather report. 

 

"What is going on?" Dean asked, watching thunder streak overhead all over again.  "Sam, come on, give me something here, I need to understand!" 

 

"There's an archangel about to descend on your damn location, to get you!"

 

Dean's hands tightened on the wheel and he took a deep breath as he pressed his foot further down on the accelerator and gunned it down the highway.  "How the hell do you know that?" 

 

"A severely educated guess based on the severe thunder and lightening storms that have descended out of nowhere to exactly where you are!" Sam snapped, pacing across the room.  "I can see it on the damn television.  Bobby said it was likely one of the archangels causing it." 

 

Dean swallowed.  "Where's Cas?" 

 

"Why do you care?" Sam snapped, watching the storm turn into a dark cloud of red.  He bit down on his lip, scowling at it.  "You've done nothing but hate every single second that he has spent around us, and here you are, worried about him?"

 

"Of course I'm worried about him!" Dean shot back, shooting through a puddle, glad for the extra weight in the trunk, because it was enough to keep him from hydroplaning.  "He's saved my ass more times than I want to think about and he took us both off the angelic and demonic radars with that graffiti of his." 

 

Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it.  "Are we talking about the same person, here?  Who the hell are you and what have you done with my big brother who has done nothing but bitch about the angelic babysitter-"

 

"Dean," Castiel said, groaning as he appeared in the front seat. 

 

"Shit!" Dean swore, looking at Cas.  "Warn a guy!" he shouted, then he realized that Castiel's white shirt and tan trenchcoat were soaked in something that looked uncomfortably like blood.  "Cas!  Are you all right?" 

 

"Keep driving," Castiel ordered, pressing his hand to the front of his vessel, trying to focus his grace enough to heal.  "We have to leave this area of the country immediately.  Do not stop, no matter what you see or hear." 

 

Dean didn't question it.  He kept his foot pressed to the accelerator and only stopped when he needed gas, filling up the tank, looking at where Castiel was passed out in the front seat.  He wasn't sure when the angel had lost consciousness, but this wasn't good.  He was getting paler by the second. 

 

By the time he got out of the bunker, Dean had been driving almost eight hours straight, at the impala's top speed.  He pulled into the bunker, glad to at last be out of the rain that had plagued him almost the entire time.  "Sam!" he said, when the door opened.  He climbed out and opened the front seat, tugging Castiel carefully out.  "Cas is hurt!" 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

Sam opened the door and raced downstairs. "How badly?" 

 

"I don't know!" Dean snapped, lifting Castiel in his arms.  "He's covered in blood and not conscious, and he's an angel of the lord!  Not like they're in a fucking anatomy textbook."

 

Sam scowled and helped Dean get Castiel into the bunker, carrying him down the stairs.  "Did you at least check to see where he was injured?" 

 

"And when, precisely, would I have done that?" Dean snapped, getting Castiel to the couch, peeling back the trenchcoat from where he could see the blood seeping out, and something that looked suspiciously like bright white light.  "Go get me the first aid kit," he ordered Sam. 

 

"Are you going to try to stitch up an angel?" Sam asked, glaring at Dean. 

 

"I'm going to make sure we don't have a dead angel," Dean shot back, pressing his hands to the wound.  He could feel that same warmth that liked to make the handprint ache, the warmth that he had now begun to associate with Castiel. 

 

"Fine," Sam said, immediately striding for their bedroom, grabbing the kit, walking back out to find Dean talking to a barely conscious Castiel.  "Is he awake?" 

 

"Yes," Castiel croaked, frowning at the sight of Dean's hands pressed to his injury.  His grace should be burning the human, but Dean appeared to not only not feel the touch, but to be perfectly content to hold him in place like this.  His grace reacted to the touch of the human, soothing the injury and allowing them to start to heal. 

 

Dean blinked in surprise when he felt the skin under his hands start to stitch back together.  "Cas, what the hell is going on?" 

 

Castiel opened his mouth to explain and then shut it again.  He did not have a good way to explain precisely what was happening to them both, but as the light of Dean's soul continued to heal him, he allowed it to happen.  "You're helping," he managed. 

 

"That's great.  How the fuck am I helping?" Dean asked, removing one of his hands to grab the pad of gauze out of the first aid kit, pressing it to what was left of the wound.  "And you want to tell me what the fuck happened to you?" 

 

"No, I do not," Castiel said, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the seat.  He could still feel the rage of his brothers at his disobedience.  "It is complicated." 

 

"This situation isn't a fucking facebook status," Dean snapped, glaring at the angel. "It's the end of the damn world." 

 

"What is facebook?" Castiel asked, opening his eyes to look at Dean. 

 

Dean opened his mouth to respond and snapped it shut.  "Nevermind.  Just get better and heal yourself or whatever the fuck that you need to do to make sure that you don't keel over and die." 

 

"I have no plans to die, Dean," Castiel said, frowning at the implication.  "However, I was gravely injured and will need a few days to recover." 

 

"Take a few days," Dean said, relaxing.  He looked up at Sam and saw a strange look on his face.  He raised an eyebrow and stared at him.  "What?" 

 

Sam shook his head and pressed his fingertips to the tattoo now inked into his wrist.  "Nothing.  Not sure when the angel finally started to grow on you." 

 

"I haven't grown on Dean," Castiel said, opening his eyes to stare at Sam.  "I do not understand." 

 

Dean chuckled and pushed Castiel back down to the couch.  "All right man, I understand not wanting to talk about whatever the hell happened, but you need to take it easy and fucking chill out for a few days.  Sam and I can hold down the fort." 

 

"Yes," Castiel agreed.  Already he could feel his superiors summoning him, demanding that he return to heaven and face retribution for what he had done to protect this human.  "I will rest."

 

"Good," Dean said, pulling his hands away from the wound.  There was bright pink skin, it looked almost like a scar, under his hands, but there was no more blood that was seeping from it.  He stood up and grabbed the towel out of the kit, wiping off his hands.  He looked at Sam.  "Catch me up on what happened?" 

 

Sam shook his head.  "You need a shower and sleep before we talk about anything," he ordered, pointing to the back of the bunker.  "Go.  I'll keep an eye on Castiel." 

 

Dean nodded and went to push his fingers through his hair before he realized that they were covered in blood and scowled.  "Yeah, I'm going to go rinse this off.  Hopefully by the time I'm done-"

 

"And you've slept, and ate," Sam interjected.  "I'll have a better answer for you on what the fuck just happened." 

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  "You get some sleep too at some point, you hear me?" 

 

Sam nodded and winked at Dean.  "Don't worry, unlike you, I do actually make attempts to take care of myself." 

 

“Bullshit, bitch,” Dean shot back, grinning at him. 

 

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Admit it.” 

 

Dean shrugged.  “Maybe I need to take a little bit better care of myself?” he offered. 

 

“That’s more like it," Sam said, glancing over at the angel who was lying prone on the couch, his chest completely still.  "What do you think happened, Dean?" 

 

Dean shook his head.  "I don't know.  It wasn't good though.  He was in a bad way for most of the ride out here.  I wasn't sure he was going to make it." 

 

Sam nodded and bit down on his lip.  "I'm not sure that we can afford to lose him at this point.  We need all of the allies that we can get, according to Bobby."

 

Dean's eyes sharpened and he stared at Sam.  "What are you talking about?" 

 

Sam waved it off.  "I'll tell you more as soon as you are awake again.  In the meantime, please, Dean, get some sleep." 

 

"All right," Dean said, yawning.  "I'll go get some shut eye, but don't think that this is the end of that conversation.  You're going to tell me." 

 

Sam nodded.  "I'll catch you up completely, I promise.  But I want some sleep too, and this going to take a while to explain.  We can take a trip into town tomorrow." 

 

"Good," Dean said, stretching and heading for the shower.  "We have any liquor left?" 

 

"You need sleep not booze," Sam said, grabbing a blanket to wrap around the angel, since it looked like he wasn't bleeding any longer.  He knew that the bunker could get cold at night from experience. 

 

"I need," Dean said, looking at him.  "Exactly what you said.  Shower, bed, and then food.  Night Sammy." 

 

"Night jerk," Sam shot back, grinning when Dean's grin turned bright. 

 

"Night bitch," Dean said, smiling wide. 

 

Dean headed down to the showers, glad for the steaming hot spray, and for the fact that the water heater in the bunker was excellent.  And fucking huge for that matter.  He remained under the spray until his skin was pink and a little bit sore from the press of the water. 

 

He was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, curling into the glorious memory foam mattress that they had picked up the first week they were in the bunker.    

 

~!~

 

Sam heard Dean snore not long after he shut the door to his room and chuckled, slowly walking down the hallway towards his room.  He was exhausted and needed to try to catch a few hours before the nightmares came for him again. 

 

He fell onto his bed and took a deep breath, trying to relax.  He grinned and turned onto his side and wrapped his arms around a pillow.  If he was lucky, he would manage to get at least a couple of hours and Dean wouldn't realize that something was wrong. 

 

~!~

 

Dean walked downstairs to the smell of bacon and took a slow, deep inhale.  "All right, what are you trying to hide?" 

 

Sam looked out of the kitchen and glared at his brother.  "What the hell are you talking about?" 

 

"You're cooking.  You _hate_ cooking.  You only cook when you are either trying to bribe me, or you're trying to hide something from me," Dean said, stretching.  "I've got lots of practice with you attempting to do both." 

 

"Consider this a bribery to shut up about bringing me outside the bunker," Sam said, offering Dean the plate with several pieces of bacon ready for him. "Here, take a few of these." 

 

Dean grabbed a few pieces and took a bite, humming.  "Oh, and you even cooked them properly.  You must really want me to lay off." 

 

"I'm busy," Sam said, shrugging a little bit as he sipped his coffee.  "I mean, we can make a run into town, but I need to stay here." 

 

Dean grunted and looked over at the couch where Castiel was laying.  He hadn't moved from when Sam had tucked the blanket around him and fuck if he didn't look comfy like that.  "He awake yet?" 

 

"He has a name," Castiel said, his voice groggy.  "I am here and I will be fine.  It is simply easier not to move at present." 

 

Dean lifted his hands, walking towards the kitchen, in search of more bacon that Sam had made for him.  "Sorry, sorry, I'll leave the magically healing angel alone, don't you worry." 

 

Sam snorted and offered Dean the plate again, smiling at him.  "I mean, if you were ever going to be able to heal by anything magically, it definitely would be bacon, without a doubt." 

 

"Amen!" Dean said, grinning brightly.  "How are you feeling, Cas?" 

 

"Awful," Castiel responded with a scowl.  "That being said, I have more recovering to do.  Do you have a room that I could stay in for several hours?" 

 

"Yes of course," Dean said, waving down the hallway.  "Sam and I have the last two rooms on the left but any of the others are yours, feel free." 

 

Castiel nodded and managed to stagger to his feet, keeping the blanket that Sam had given him wrapped tightly around him.  "Very well.  If both of you have need for me, please call me." 

 

Dean waved at him and snorted.  "Yeah, like we're gonna call him when it seems like a stiff wind might blow him over." 

 

Sam turned to his brother and smiled.  "Never thought that I would see the day where you are concerned about our resident angel." 

 

"I'm not concerned about him," Dean said.  "I'm just, he's handy to have around and if we can avoid having him die on us, that would probably be good.  Besides, he's my new partner.  I shouldn't let him die if I can avoid it.  The bureau does frown on that." 

 

Sam blinked in surprise, his eyes going wide.  "New partner?  When the hell were you going to tell me that?"

 

Dean froze and cleared his throat.  "Uh, well, preferably never, actually." 

 

Sam laughed and focused on finishing his omelet.  "Of course you were, heaven forbid that you actually like your partner.  The world might end if you didn't have something to bitch about." 

 

"That joke would be so much funnier if it wasn't actually the end of the world," Dean said, glaring at his brother. 

 

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Fair enough.  So are you dragging me out, or what?" he asked. 

 

Dean raised his eyebrows and finished off the last piece of bacon, munching through it.  "What, you're only going to give me token protests this time around?" 

 

"I think it is a manner of protesting just enough so you think that I'm not actually desperate to get out of here," Sam shot back.  "I know what cabin fever is like, Dean, and even I have to admit that getting out would be good." 

 

"All right, we'll do a supply run then," Dean said, looking at where Castiel had disappeared down the hallway.  "We'll take care of that and be back before he even notices that we are missing." 

 

"Uh-huh," Sam said, yawning as he flipped the eggs.  "Now tell me what you actually want in your damn omelet." 

 

~!~

 

Dean climbed into the front seat and grinned as Sam echoed the motion almost immediately, getting in next to him, shutting the door behind him.  "Who knew that I would miss the sound of the Impala's door shutting." 

 

Sam blinked and raised both of his eyebrows.  "Castiel doesn't use the door?" 

 

"Castiel doesn't use the door." 

 

"Why don't you ask him to use the door?" Sam asked, tilting his head.  "Seems like it would be easy enough and it would be far less suspicious than what you are doing right now." 

 

Dean shrugged.  "I don't bother.  There's some things that just aren't worth it with him.  That's one of them, without a doubt." 

 

"I would ask..." Sam said, glancing over at his brother.  "But I don't think that I want to know." 

 

Dean barked out a laugh and grinned, bright and wide.  "Oh, yes you do.  He's a fucking riot.  He actually has a sense of humor too, believe it or not." 

 

Sam gave his brother an incredulous look.  "You do know that he's conspiring against us, right?" 

 

"Bobby trusts him," Dean shot back.  "Not all the angels.  But him, specifically, Bobby trusts him." 

 

Sam frowned.  "Bobby said that?" 

 

Dean nodded.  "Bobby said that."

 

Sam blew out a hard breath and looked out the window as they pulled out onto the small highway that would lead into town.  "I didn't know that." 

 

"Yeah, and I'm starting to see why.  He follows orders, but he's not afraid to question them if they don't feel right to him," Dean said.  "Which is why he's been tagging along with me on hunts in the first place." 

 

Sam hummed in consideration.  "Do you think his bosses are pissed with that?" 

 

"I don't see how they could be happy," Dean said, grinning at him.  "But Cas seems to be pretty good at manipulating them into what he wants, so I'm not too worried." 

 

Silence reigned between them for a few minutes, stretching out through the AC/DC coming through the speakers. 

 

"You know, you haven't been yourself," Sam said, looking over at his brother.  They pulled into a parking lot and he climbed out, stretching.  He took a cart and followed his brother in. 

 

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked, walking down the aisle, tossing food at Sam as they went.  They had a few new credit cards that they could abuse, courtesy of Bobby and he was going to do his best to take advantage.

 

Sam looked at the red and pink decorations all around them that Dean seemed to be blatantly ignoring.  "Dean, it's Valentine's Day." 

 

Dean blinked and registered the hearts that were floating above the store, and all of the cheesy lines about love and other decorations in the area.  " _Oh_." 

 

"You know, your favorite holiday.  Unattached drifter Christmas?" Sam added, elbowing his brother with a grin. 

 

Dean scoffed and threw a bag of potato chips into the cart.  "I dunno," he said with a shrug.  "Guess I'm not feeling it this year."  He looked over at Sam and raised both of his eyebrows.  "The apocalypse does tend to take your mind off those sorts of things." 

 

Sam grunted and grabbed a few other items and threw them into the cart.  "We aren't going to survive on snack foods, Dean, grab something that you can at least cook." 

 

"Speak for yourself, Sammy.  I subsist on nothing but snack food," Dean teased, grabbing another bag only a few seconds later.

 

Sam rolled his eyes and frowned, grabbing some of Dean's favorite rub for the steaks he at least knew that Dean wouldn't complain about.  "Well, I don't, so make sure to grab some other things for me there, would you?" 

 

"I'll see what I can do," Dean shot back.  "No promises though." 

 

"Of course," Sam said, rolling his eyes.  "Does this mean you aren't going to abandon me for a bar this evening?" 

 

Dean considered it.  There were at least several places in town that he could hit up, and there were almost guaranteed to be some of those unattached drifters that he did love rolling into bed with.  Then he thought of Castiel, wrapped in blankets and still healing from a fight he didn't want to talk about. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a second chapter due to the accidental fandom hiatus that I went into!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!

 

"Nah, I'll be passing up on those tonight," Dean said, focusing on the food in front of him.  "Oh, look!  Steaks are on sale, let's grab a few of those." 

 

Sam let his brother change the topic in the most un-subtle way possible and focused on the food in front of him.  Something had changed his brother's mind.  Hopefully that something was the angel who was helping to bring about the end of the world.  But maybe it was, who knew? 

 

Castiel was sitting in the middle of the room, flipping through a few of the books that Sam had on the table when they came back to the house.  "Where did you both go?" 

 

"We needed food," Sam said, carrying in the bags, heading for the industrial refrigerator. 

 

"And other stuff," Dean said, holding up a bag of Funyons triumphantly.  "Hunter's best friend and we needed to stay stocked if we are going to go into full on research mode." 

 

Castiel frowned at them.  "It's not safe for the both of you go to out." 

 

"Safe as we could be with each other like that," Dean shot back.  "Hell, maybe we'll go take a case while you are recovering." 

 

Castiel's frown shifted into a scowl.  "I don't know that I would suggest that. It is very possible that another demon attack could happen and if I am not there to protect you-"

 

"Then Sam would protect my back, just like he has for the past twenty years," Dean shot back, grinning at his baby brother.  "That's why we're here, to protect each other's backs." 

 

Castiel was silent and he stared at the two brothers.  "Be that as it may, the two of you are not going to be able to fight against several dozen demons yourselves.  In the event that they find you and they are able to get word out on your location-"

 

"That's a lot of ifs," Sam interjected.  "Look, it's fine, we're home safe now, and I'll go back to being a hermit." 

 

"No, no," Dean said, looking at Sam.  "I think that's what is making you so irritable.  We should definitely take a case together and if I have to, I'll knock your ass out to make sure that you get some proper sleep." 

 

Sam rolled his eyes.  "I'm sleeping fine." 

 

"Bullshit you are," Dean shot back, glaring at his little brother.  "I don't think you're sleeping at all." 

 

Sam rolled his eyes and glared at him.  "You're being stupid." 

 

"Sam," Dean said, looking over at Castiel.  "Look, man, we have to be at the top of our game if we're going to stop this.  And we are going to stop it."  He pointed to Castiel, who had started to open his mouth.  "Now is not the time to argue." 

 

Castiel closed his mouth and stared at the two brothers, tilting his head as he looked at them.  It was more and more apparent that Dean was correct.  On top of that, his latest orders from his superiors did not make sense, as releasing the seals would only guarantee Lucifer coming to earth for all the potential destruction that he could cause. 

 

Sam sighed.  "I'm sleeping fine." 

 

"When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?" Dean asked. 

 

"When was the last time _you_ got a full night's sleep?" Sam shot back, glaring at his brother. 

 

Dean shrugged.  "I'm on the road more than you are and I'm way more used to this kind of thing-"

 

"Dean," Sam scoffed.  "We both grew up like this, don't even try to bullshit me like that, okay?  I'll fucking punch you and leave you on the damn floor overnight like you deserve." 

 

Dean barked out a laugh against his will, even though he knew that the threat was a perfectly good one when it came to Sam.  "Just one case.  We'll find something close, something we can deal with.  Do all the research here so Cas doesn't get his feathers in a ruffle." 

 

"My feathers don't-" 

 

"I don't know," Sam hedged, looking over at Castiel.  "Cas is right, what if-"

 

"You're the one who just said that that was a lot of 'what ifs' for one scenario," Dean shot back, glaring at him.  "So which is it going to be?" 

 

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.  "I don't like it when you use my own logic against me." 

 

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged and reached out to punch Sam in the shoulder.  "You'd better start getting used to it." 

 

Castiel frowned at them both.  "It is not a good idea for the both of you to travel without me.  I will have to come with you."

 

Sam and Dean shared a look. 

 

"You will do no such thing," Dean said, glaring at the angel.  "You need to be back up to fighting form, and you aren't going to get there trekking around in the car with us." 

 

"If you are attacked," Castiel started.  "You will be dragged to hell, Dean." 

 

Dean shrugged and pat Sam on the back.  "That's why Sammy here needs to get a proper night's sleep.  So he can watch my back and make sure there aren't any damn demons creeping up on it." 

 

Castiel frowned at them again.  "Perhaps by the time you find a case, I will be recovered enough to go with you." 

 

Sam straightened a little and looked over at his computer.  "Were you really injured that badly?" he asked Cas, walking closer. 

 

Castiel turned to stare at the wall and took a deep breath.  "Yes, I was injured that badly.  My grace has been shredded and I am attempting to heal."

 

Sam winced.  He didn't know what was involved in grace shredding, but if that was the right word to describe it, he could guess enough just from that.  "Is there anything that we can do to help?  Wasn't Dean able to do something the other day?" 

 

"No," Castiel said, sitting down on the couch, tightening the blanket he had been given yesterday around his shoulders.  "It will merely take time, and effort on my part to heal," he added, leaning back into the cushions. 

 

"Are, uh," Dean took a step closer and froze when Castiel's eyes caught him.  "Are your superiors pissed at you for getting in that fight?"

 

Castiel snorted and closed his eyes.  "I am going to rest now," he announced. 

 

Dean shared a look with Sam.  That had been a yes.  Normally Castiel didn't try to avoid the obvious questions like that, no matter what they were.  He sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair, walking over to the computer to sit in front of it.  "All right, then let's find us a case," he said, looking up at Sam. 

 

Sam nodded and sat down in front of his computer and started browsing, checking some of the local news stories. 

 

~!~

 

Repairing his grace without the replenishment of the source was a painfully slow ordeal.  Castiel focused on moving as little as possible and doing what he had informed Sam and Dean that he would be doing.  Putting himself back together, piece by piece. 

 

"Hey Cas," Dean called, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder.  "Good morning, how are you feeling?" 

 

Castiel grunted and shuffled past him, walking into the main room.  He knew Dean had found a case, and that he was in no possible shape to go with him and protect him as he needed.  "When do you leave?" he asked. 

 

Dean grinned at him.  "Yeah, Sam found a simple salt and burn about an hour away.  We've already done the research on it, just needs to be taken care of." 

 

Castiel nodded and sat down in one of the chairs at the table, pulling the books Sam had been looking at closer to him.  "I shall continue Sam's research while you are both working." 

 

"What?" Dean said, blinking.  "You aren't going to try to convince me to stay?"

 

Castiel shook his head and looked down at the books again.  "It would be far more efficient for me to focus on finding research that will help you both." 

 

"Right," Dean said, his voice a little dazed as Sam walked out of his bedroom with his bag slung over his shoulder.  

 

“Ready to go?”

 

Sam smiled at his brother and nodded.  "Yeah, let's get the hell out of here."  Now that they had a hunt and they were going to be able to get away from the books and everything else for a few days, Sam was eager for it.  He could almost hear when he had said that he would have loved a normal salt and burn over the mess of the end of the world.  Well, now he had his wish. 

 

"You okay?" Dean called, heading up to the front door.  "Sammy?" 

 

Sam snapped to attention and followed his brother out to the front door.  "You bet your ass I am!  Let's go." 

 

"That's my boy," Dean said, grinning at him and clapping Sam on the shoulder as he led them out to the car. 

 

Castiel watched the both of them go and he could not help but wonder if he was making a mistake allowing the both of them to go with each other.  Discord, sharp and strong sprang through heaven and Castiel raised his eyes, frowning.  Something was wrong. 

 

He pushed himself to his feet and looked at the books out in front of him and then heavenward again.  What would inspire the host to call out in such a way? Castiel closed his eyes and forced himself to focus.  He needed to understand what was going on without reporting to any of his superiors. 

 

~!~

 

"See, we should have been doing this all along," Dean said, grinning as they left the house of the last witness they needed to interview.  "A completely open and shut case?  Now we just need to do some gravedigging, burn the bones and we can call it a day!" 

 

Sam snorted and leaned back into the familiar seats of the Impala.  "I suppose you're right.  It is good to get out from time to time.  Maybe not as often." 

 

Dean shrugged and took them back to the hotel, parking and climbing out a moment later.  "We'll survive.  You were even able to mimic the spells that Castiel had put up for us!  We're as safe as we could possibly get-"

 

"Well," A slow, sultry voice whispered.  "That isn't quite right." 

 

Dean snapped to attention and pulled out his gun, staring at the woman in front of him.  " _Christo_ ," he snapped.  Her eyes flashed black.  "Demon!" he shouted at Sam, firing the gun at her, racing for the trunk of the impala.  He had holy water in there, that was what he needed. 

 

"Dean!" Sam shouted, watching another two demons come out of the shadows of the hotel.  "Call Cas!" 

 

Dean yanked the trunk open, only for the whole world to go black a few seconds later. 

 

Sam spun around when he heard the sound of a body hitting the ground.  "Dean!" 

 

"Now, now," A tall, gaunt man said, stepping closer to him.  "Play nice, Sam Winchester, or I'll peel every inch of your brother's skin from him as you watch." 

 

Sam swallowed hard and muttered under his breath. " _Christo_."  Yellow eyes smirked at him and he felt his heart jump into overtime, reminding him, over and over again, that Castiel had warned them that this might happen, that they needed to be more careful.  And now Azazel was standing in front of him.  They'd played right into their hand. "What are you going to do to him?"

 

"Him?" the demon scoffed. "We'll bring him to hell, where he should have been all along.  And you?" The demon added, raising an eyebrow.  "You, we are going to bring to Lucifer.  He's been very eager to meet you." 

 

Ice crawled into his heart, and the whispers that had invaded his dreams started up again, that low, drawling voice that offered him everything in exchange for a single word.  "I won't give in," Sam whispered, staring at the demon. 

 

Azazel laughed, reaching out to trail his fingers over Sam's cheek.  "You can think that if you want.  But whatever human methods of torture that you think you can withstand?  Nothing compared to what we have in store for you both." 

 

Sam shuddered and debated making a run for it. 

 

Azazel tutted.  "Now, now.  You've walked so easily into our trap, you might as well come nicely," he said, slamming his fist into Sam Winchester's jaw, watching as he crumpled to the ground.  He looked at the others.  "Bring them," he ordered. 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double chapter for the delay! :)

 

"Well, well, well," Azazel called, walking closer to Dean Winchester.  "You know, I didn't think you would make things so easy for us.  I expected a challenge." 

 

Dean opened his eyes slowly, watching the demon walk towards him.  Yellow eyes flashed and Dean strained against the ropes holding him tight.  "You bastard!" 

 

Azazel laughed, his head falling back.  "Oh, look at you.  So human, so foolish.  Did you really think you could attempt to outsmart us?  Your father was a set back, true.  But you?  You had no hope of outsmarting us." 

 

Dean swallowed, his eyes darting around the room, the stench of blood strong enough to make him gag.  "So what's your plan, huh?" 

 

"Where do you think we are, Dean Winchester?" Azazel asked. 

 

"Your sex torture dungeon, obviously," Dean shot back, glaring at him.  "Where's Sam?" 

 

Azazel paused next to the table and lifted it up on a crank slowly, showing the prone form of Sam Winchester tied to the table.  "Why, right here." 

 

Dean met Sam's eyes and struggled against the ropes holding him in place.  "What are you going to do to us?" 

 

"Well," Azazel said, tapping his jaw.  "We're going to break the first seal, of course."  He turned his attention back to Sam and smirked, stalking closer.  "For all of your research, you have no idea what they are, do you?  Not even the angels would tell you." 

 

Sam stared at him and scowled.  "Fuck you.  The angels didn't know." 

 

"Oh, well," Azazel purred.  "Maybe your angel didn't know, but the angels certainly did.  Why do you think that they weren't willing to help you make sure the seals weren't broken?" 

 

Sam shared a look with Dean and focused on the demon in front of him again.  "I have no idea, but I'm sure that you're going to tell us, aren't you?" 

 

Azazel laughed.  "I could, of course, perhaps tell you, but where would the fun in that be?" he asked, picking up a knife from the nearby table.  "For the same reason, however, I will show you.  Because it is going to be _fun_ ," he promised. 

 

"Oh yes it is!" A female voice said, joining them a moment later. 

 

Dean recognized the female demon from the graveyard that he had killed the vessel of.  "You!" 

 

"Oh yes, me!  We haven't had our formal introductions yet, Dean, as you shooting me rather prevented that," she teased, reaching out and slapping him across the cheek, leaving streaks of blood on his face as she did.  "However, I'm not worried about it.  Ruby.  A pleasure," she purred. 

 

"Fuck off," Dean snarled, glaring at her.  "We're not going to do whatever the fuck you want us to.  You picked the wrong two to mess with." 

 

"Hmmm," Ruby said.  "Yes, that's true.  But, in your own words, your greatest weakness is...each other.  So here's what we're going to do," Ruby said, her voice bordering on giddy.  "We'll even have an audience!" she pointed over to the woman reclining in a corner of the room.  "She might even offer advice!" 

 

Dean snarled and started to struggle against his bonds again.  "If you think that you are going to fuck with us and get us to do whatever you want-"

 

"Yes," Lilith said, her voice quiet and certain from the corner.  "That is exactly what we expect. Your father might have caused us an inconvenience, Dean Winchester, but you?  You have played exactly into our hands." 

 

Bile, hot and sludgy, curled in his stomach.  Castiel's warning echoed in his mind and Dean offered up a silent prayer to Castiel, that the angel could find them before things were too late.  "What are you going to do to us?" 

 

"To you?" Ruby asked, walking over to where Sam was still struggling against the stone of the table.  "Nothing." 

 

Dean's eyes flew to Sam and he turned his attention to Azazel and the wicked knife that he was holding.  "You touch him with that," he snarled, his voice low.  "I will tear you apart, piece by piece.  There will be nothing left of you." 

 

"Do you know," Azazel said.  "There are approximately three hundred and forty seven non-lethal places that a human can be stabbed.  The capacity you humans have for torture is a true joy to play with." 

 

Sam forced down a hard swallow and stared at his brother.  "It's okay, Dean."  The tattoo under his sleeve pulsed, hot and painful and Sam knew that they were going to be in trouble.  He looked at his brother and tried to tell him that it was going to be okay.  That it _was_. 

 

"Here's the best part!" Ruby said, stopping in front of Dean, tilting her head at him, giving a wicked smile.  "You can get free." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes.  "Like I'd buy that bullshit." 

 

"Oh you can," Ruby said, taking a knife out of her pocket, showing it to Dean.  "See this?  This can kill all of us.  I'm going to give it to you," she added, stabbing it into the wall beside Dean's head.  "All you have to do is untie yourself.  You can, by the way." 

 

"Why are you telling me this?" Dean said, glancing at the knife and then to her. 

 

"Because," Lilith said from the corner.  "The best way to torture you, Dean Winchester, will be to watch your brother be taken apart piece by piece, knowing that you could have stopped it, if only you had tried a little bit harder." 

 

Dean struggled against the ropes again, feeling blood start to drip down his hands as all three of the demons laughed at him.  "Sammy!" 

 

Azazel ignored him and turned back towards Sam, holding out the knife in front of him. 

 

"Sammy!" Dean shouted.  "Hold on!" 

 

Sam stared at Azazel, struggling to breathe as the knife was brought up to his cheek and scraped just hard enough to draw blood.  "We're going to kill all of you." 

 

"We're counting on it," Azazel said.  He shifted and in a quick instant, had the blade sticking out of Sam Winchester's shoulder.  A delightful scream tore the air. 

 

Dean struggled and managed to slip one hand out of the ropes, struggling against the bonds.  All of the demons were staring at Azazel, the fucking bastard, as he slowly cut into Sam, again and again. 

 

Sam trembled, his hands shaking as the blood dripped down his body, the knife twisting in his leg before being pulled out again.  He bit down a scream, his voice hoarse.  He could barely see Dean through the pain, but his brother, his brother was fighting to get out of the bonds, but something was wrong.  The demons, the demons wanted to be killed.  _Why?_   Why would they give him a weapon? 

 

"Dean," he slurred, rolling his head, trying to get his attention.  "Dean, don'..."

 

"I'm coming," Dean growled, working the ropes down his other hand.  "I'm coming Sammy, hold on."  The sickening sound of the knife being pulled out of Sam hung in the air as Sam made another sad noise.  "I'm coming Sammy," he promised, slipping his hands free of the ropes at last. 

 

"I don't know what kind of game you are all playing," Dean growled, grabbing the knife, fitting his hand around the handle.  He yanked it out of the wall by his head and started cutting at the rest of the ropes holding him in place.  "But you're about to fucking regret it." 

 

Ruby turned to look at Dean, raising her eyebrow at him.  She forced herself to remain still, barely able to contain her excitement.  "Oh look, you've managed to get free.  Maybe you'll even get to your brother before he bleeds out." 

 

"I will!" Dean snarled, sawing through the ropes around his legs.  He managed to finish one off and started working on another only seconds later.  "I'm going to enjoy killing you, killing all of you." 

 

Azazel stepped back from the table and put the knife down, humming as he looked over the rest of the utensils.  "Perhaps this?" he lifted it up and showed it to Dean.  "I'll carve small holes out of his skin.  You think you've heard him scream?  You haven't heard anything yet." 

 

~!~

 

Lilith watched the proceedings, her eyes shining in the dark room.  They were close now, so very close.  She walked closer to where Sam was on the table.  Now it was her turn to play a part.  "If only you had been a little stronger," she purred, trailing a nail down Sam's finger.  "You would have been able to protect Dean.  If you had been a little smarter, maybe you would have found the seals and known what we are doing." 

 

Sam glared at her, his attention darting between her and the sculpting tool Azazel was bringing towards him.  He heard Dean shout in the background.  He focused on Lilith again, hatred for her roiling in him, hot and liquid burning him from the inside out.  The tattoo on his arm was a brand, as fresh as the day he bought it spurring his hatred. 

 

Power filled him, liquid heat that was no less warm, but it burned.  "I'll kill you," he spat. 

 

"You can try," she whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek and drag her fingernails down it, slowly. 

 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, stepping free of the ropes at last.  The demon who had taunted him earlier, Ruby, turned to face him.  He held her knife out in front of him.  "I'm going to kill you," he promised, advancing on her. 

 

Ruby watched him, her eyes bright and wide.  "Oh no, whatever will I do?" 

 

Dean sank the knife into her heart, twisting it as Sam screamed behind her.  Ruby jolted underneath him, her body starting to turn to smoke as she laughed.  Blood dripped down his hand, but he kept the grip on the hilt as he yanked it back out and advanced on the demon who had killed his mother. 

 

Lilith pulled back from Sam and tilted her head heavenward, a raw laugh escaping her.  "The Righteous Man has spilled blood in Hell.  **_Now_**." 

 

Her final word echoed in the chamber, growing until Dean was forced to cover his ears.  

 

~!~

 

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!!" Bobby shouted into the phone, the ground shaking beneath them.  " _Now_!"

 

"We've lost the seals in Afghanistan!  **_Demons_**!  They're ghurk-"

 

"No!" Bobby shouted, turning to the others in the room.  "Get them backup, now, confirm the other seals are still-" 

 

The room rocked again and Bobby was thrown to the floor.  "Someone find out what the hell is going on right now!"  He grabbed the phone out of his pocket and dialed Dean's number, his stomach dropping when no one answered.  "No, no, don't you boys fucking do this to me!" 

 

Another boom came, and Bobby wasn't sure if it was outside the building or if it was over the phone.  "I need answers!!" he snarled.  He dialed Sam's number, but the call went to voicemail.  On a whim, he tried a third and final number, this one was picked up.  "Castiel!" 

 

"Director Singer," Castiel responded.  He stepped out of the bunker and turned his gaze heavenward, the sky bright with far more than sunlight now.  "It has begun." 

 

"What has?" Bobby shouted, turning to the monitors.  Red was popping up all over, seals being broken one after another in a domino effect. 

 

**"27."**

 

~!~

 

The instant the room stopped shaking, Dean advanced on Azazel, the knife held in front of him.  "You killed my mother, and my father," he growled. 

 

Azazel smirked at him.  "Would you like to know how much they screamed before they died?  How they begged for mercy, and I didn't give it to them?" 

 

~!~

 

 **"Fifty-Seven,"** the computer called. 

 

Bobby tightened his hand on the phone.  "We're going to lose them," he told Castiel.  "Where are the boys?  They need to hide, now." 

 

Castiel closed his eyes and looked heavenward. "It is too late."

 

"What do you mean?" Bobby snapped.  "They're with you, aren't they?"  Silence was the only answer that he needed.  "You know where they are, Castiel." 

 

Castiel turned his attention to the earth.  He closed his eyes and stretched his wings out behind him.  "I do, yes." 

 

"You have to get to them.  You have to," Bobby said.  "We will offer you any protection you want, but you have to-"

 

"I do not have to do anything," Castiel interrupted, reaching for his full form in an instant, transporting himself into the bunker again.  "However, I chose to." 

 

Bobby stared at the phone as the line went dead. 

 

~!~

 

Azazel didn't scream, even as Dean plunged the knife into him, again and again.  It was not as satisfying as it should have been, even when he fell to the floor, still laughing. 

 

"Goodness," Lilith said.  "It looks like someone has some aggression issues that they need to work out, don't they?" 

 

Dean turned to her and was abruptly slammed away from her and into the wall.  He grunted and fumbled the knife, dropping it to the ground with a clatter as the invisible force held him tighter to the wall. 

 

"Now," Lilith said, looking over at Sam.  "We've seen how loud your brother can scream.  How about you?"  She held her hand out and started to tighten it around Dean. 

 

~!~

 

" ** _SIR_**!"

 

Bobby looked up from the table at the computer monitor, the damning number **'65'** blaring at him in bright red.  He looked to the phone on the table. 

 

"Give me your **_status_**.  Everyone.  Now," he snapped, keeping his eyes on that number.  It was only a matter of time now. 

 

Everything was silent now, whatever had been attacking or shaking the ground was gone.  He kept his eyes on that number, waiting for it to flip.  He pressed a button on the table, muting the voices who had started to talk. 

 

"This is Director Singer.  I am calling a level five world-wide emergency.  Prepare for the worst, as best you can." 

 

~!~

 

Sam could feel the fire licking at his skin, eating away at the ropes that were keeping him tied to the table.  The tattoo on his arm burned, white hot power surging through him.  He didn't have any time to question it. 

 

"Dean!" he shouted, stumbling a little as he held his hand out towards Lilith.  "Let him go!" 

 

Lilith lifted her chain and relaxed, staring down the vessel of Lucifer.  He would be so pleased with her.  "Make me." 

 

Sam imagined the power stretching out from his hand to wrap around her throat, pulling her away from Dean.  He yanked, hard, causing Lilith to stumble.  Her eyes went wide and he kept his fingers stretched out.  Fire jumped from his hand towards her. 

 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, watching as Lilith was engulfed in flames, her laughter echoing in the room. 

 

Sam dropped his hand as the power abruptly drained out of him and crashed to his knees.  Lilith was in front of them, black smoke slowly evaporating into the air. 

 

Lilith lifted her head up to look at Sam and smiled as she felt the last of herself be eaten by the flames.  "My lord," she whispered.  "You are free." 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

In a single instant, everything went white. 

 

Sam wrenched himself back from the demon who had turned to nothing but ash in front of him and covered his ears.  "No!" he shouted.  Lucifer's voice, he would know that voice anywhere, that calm, persuasive, voice was everyone.  It shook him, burned him to his very core. 

 

The tattoo was a small speck of coolness as his body burned.  "No!" he repeated, his voice getting louder. 

 

The room started to shake, the knives falling from the table from where Azazel had placed them.  "Dean!" 

 

"Sam!" Dean stumbled over to him and kept his hands pressed tightly over his ears, feeling blood seep out between his fingers.  "We have to leave, now!"

 

The knife from the demon Ruby was on the floor.  Sam grabbed it and held it tight, nodding to his brother.  They would go down fighting, as they always had planned to.  "I won't let him in, Dean," Sam promised.  "He can't get in." 

 

The sound was getting louder by the second and Dean stumbled for the entrance to the room they were in. 

 

Abruptly the hallway was filled with white. 

 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, grabbing for him.  "Get down, close your eyes, close your-"

 

Sam clung as tightly as he could to Dean, even as warmth surrounded him.  The touch felt familiar, but he couldn't have placed it. 

 

"Cas!" Dean yelled, feeling the familiar touch of light.  " _Go_!" he shouted.  " ** _Go, now!_** " 

 

The ground spun, and Dean felt the warmth holding them in place begin to fade, until there was nothing left and it was frail fabric, being torn apart at the seams until there was nothing left.  When they landed, he crashed to the ground beside Sam.  "Cas!" 

 

Castiel struggled to pull himself back into his vessel, his wings still burning from the fires of hell, and from the attack Lucifer had sent after him.  "Dean," he managed, standing upright. 

 

Dean looked around the room they were in and exhaled, hard.  It looked like any run of the mill hotel room.  They could have been anywhere in the midwest.  "Where, where are we?" 

 

"I don't know," Castiel said, looking around the room.  "I was not concerned with where we were going, only with getting you away from where you were." 

 

"Thanks, Cas," Sam managed, his voice hoarse.  The cuts on his hand were a reminder of what had just happened and he shuddered.  The tattoo was burning again, and he rubbed at it, uncomfortable. 

 

Dean managed to crawl over to Sam, looking at the blood dripping off of him.  "Can you heal him?" he rasped, looking over at the angel.

 

Castiel strode over to Sam and knelt next to him.  "Sam?" he called.  His grace roiled inside him, uncomfortable and straining in his vessel, threatening to break free so he could spread his wings and shed the pain of Hell.

 

"Hey Cas," Sam managed, opening his eyes to look up at the angel.  "S'fine if you don't have the mojo.  Thanks for, thanks for getting us out." 

 

He reached out and pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead, healing him with a thought and a wash of his grace.  Sam sagged forward an instant later and Castiel moved him to the bed laying him out.  "He's healed," he told Dean, his voice gruff. 

 

"Thank fuck," Dean whispered, sagging into one of the chairs beside the table.  He rubbed his hand over his face.  "Cas-"

 

"Come with me," Castiel said, striding towards the door. 

 

Dean looked up and blinked at the angel.  "Cas, I'm not going anywhere, I've just been to Hell, literally and-"

 

" ** _Now_** ," Castiel snarled, his voice deadly. 

 

Dean tensed and glared at the angel.  He knew that he couldn't afford to piss Cas off or he might undo the healing he had given Sam.  He pushed himself upright with a grunt and followed the angel outside.  Castiel didn't walk far, only to the side of the building.  "Cas, seriously, what the fuck is-"

 

"Do you understand what you've done?" Castiel growled, grabbing Dean by the shoulders, pinning him to the wall of the building, pressing him into the brick.  "Do you understand?"

 

Dean kicked out at Cas, trying to throw the angel off of him.  "Get the fuck off of me!" 

 

"No!" Castiel shouted, pulling Dean away from the wall, throwing him to the ground.  "You didn't listen to me, I warned you, I warned you repeatedly, and you refused to _listen_!" 

 

Dean pushed himself to his feet and stood in front of the angel, panting hard as Castiel circled him.  Shadows of wings appeared against the buildings in the alley and Dean pulled his attention to Cas again.  The angel was stalking him, moving around him in slow circles.  "We couldn't let those people-"

 

"Are those people more important than the entire human race, Dean Winchester?" Castiel asked, turning to glare at the human.  "You assumed you knew better, and now, _now_ , Lucifer is free to wreak havoc on this world!  The horsemen are released!  All because you thought you **knew** better," Castiel sneered. 

 

Dean glared at the angel.  "And why the fuck do you care, huh?  Why weren't the angels willing to help us with the seals?  Just fucking admit you were playing a double game, trying to pretend that you were helping us!" he shouted, shifting so the angel was pacing in front of him.

 

Castiel's wings flared and he reached out, pinning Dean to the brick wall behind him by the neck.  The human grunted in pain and stared at him with his eyes wide.  "I gave everything up!  Everything!" 

 

Dean felt his heart stop and his mouth go dry.  "Wh-what?" 

 

"They sent my own garrison after me!" Castiel snapped, tightening his fingers on the skin of Dean's neck.  "I fought them off, in that storm!  Raphael, the healer, the _archangel_ was in that fight, Dean!  Still, I did that for _you_!"  He released Dean and let him fall to the ground, stalking away from him. 

 

"Cas, why the fuck would you, would you fucking, do any of that!  We're not worth that!  You didn't, I didn't ask for you to do that shit!" Dean snarled, getting to his feet again. 

 

Castiel looked over his shoulder at Dean and stared at him, at the bright soul, flaring even whiter in it's passion and resistance.  "It was the right thing to do.  Protecting you.  _Rebelling_.  _Falling_." 

 

Dean felt Castiel's words like a physical punch to his chest and sucked in a desperate breath.  "F-Falling?"  The handprint flared, bright insistent pain and Dean tried to breathe through it. 

 

"Yes.  And now?  Now, Lucifer is free.  The world will end," Castiel said, turning to look at Dean.  "Michael will come for you.  Lucifer for Sam.  The world will end, and Heaven shall meet Hell on the battlefield." 

 

"No," Dean growled.  "No, there still has to be a way, a way for us to-" 

 

"There is nothing!" Castiel snarled, taking a large step forward to sink his fist into Dean's stomach, watching him crumple around the punch.  "Nothing!"

 

Dean fell to the alleyway again, coughing hard, covering his stomach, staring at the ugly ass shoes that Castiel was wearing.  He sucked in a hard breath and glared up at the angel.  "Fuck you, you're no better than those other dicks, Cas.  Why the hell did you do any of that?" 

 

Castiel picked up Dean and glared at him.  "I did it because you were right.  It was the right thing to do.  I threw away everything I have ever known, because you were right, Dean Winchester.  I did it, for _you_."  Castiel pressed him back and into the wall.  "And now?  How do you repay my sacrifice?  You spit it back in my face and release the one creature who could bring about the destruction of the earth!" 

 

Dean grunted and clenched his eyes shut.  "We'll figure it out to make it right.  We will, Cas.  Sam and I, we aren't gonna give in, we aren't." 

 

Castiel released Dean and turned his back on him.  "It's too late for that.  Now there is only one way to stop him." 

 

Dean watched Castiel walk away.  "Which is what?" 

 

Castiel turned cold eyes to Dean.  "You've given us no choice, Dean.  Do you understand that?" 

 

"No," Dean whispered, staring at Cas.  "I'm not going to do it, Cas." 

 

"You will," Castiel said.  "You must." 

 

Dean clenched his hands into fists and glared at the angel.  "I won't," he growled.

 

Castiel took in the sight of the human again and spread his wings.  "It is too late for that, now.  You will be made to consent.  Lucifer will be destroyed, as will the human race." 

 

"So that's it?!" Dean shouted, striding towards the angel.  "One mistake, and we're down and out, and no longer worth it?  You'll turn us in?  I thought we could trust you, Cas!" 

 

"My name," Castiel said, turning to look at the human.  "Is Castiel." 

 

Castiel was gone an instant later and Dean dropped to his knees, the handprint on his arm burning, making him dizzy. "Cas!"  There was no answer, not that he expected one.  "Cas!" Dean shouted again. 

 

Dean stumbled to his feet and managed to get back to the hotel room.  Sam had passed out, either from exhaustion or his injuries on the bed.  Dean stumbled over to him and shook him awake.  "Sam?  Sammy?  We have to move.  We have to move _now_." 

 

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice groggy.  "What's going on?  Where's Cas?" 

 

"Cas is bringing Michael here.  We have to leave and we have to do it soon," Dean said, stuffing his things in a bag.  "We can't go back to the bunker." 

 

Sam blinked and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the water Dean had left him earlier.  "Dean, what the hell is going on?" 

 

Dean stopped and looked at his brother, guilt rolling in his stomach.  "Lucifer is free.  We have to get you out of here before he finds you." 

 

Sam nodded and sipped at the water before putting the glass down in front of him, struggling to stand.  His injuries were gone, but the phantom pain of the knife stabbing and twisting had him stumbling before he caught his balance.  "Let's go," he said. 

 

"We need to call Bobby," Dean said, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist, helping him limp to the car, throwing their duffel bags into the back.  "Figure out what the hell we're going to do.  We stay off grid until then." 

 

Sam slid into the front seat with a grunt of pain and nodded.  "Okay." 

 

Dean climbed into the front seat and tightened his hands on the wheel, starting the engine, gunning it out of the parking lot a moment later.  They were silent for the first hour, corn fields flying by them.  Dean drove until they ran out of gas, filled up and ran the tank down again.  They were headed east, that was all he knew. 

 

"Dean?" Sam asked when they had stopped again for food.  "What are you going to do?" 

 

Dean looked at Sam and swallowed hard.  "You mean what are we going to do." 

 

Sam waved a hand.  "Either or." 

 

"I don't know," Dean admitted, looking at his brother.  "But whatever we do, we're going to do it together." 

 

Sam nodded.  "You got that right." 

 

Dean nodded back at him and finished off his food and headed back for the car.  "We're going to a safehouse.  I've got the keys.  I don't know if it's free, but it's the best I've got." 

 

"All right," Sam said, looking at him.  "What about Cas?" 

 

Pain, white hot and fierce, shot through him from the handprint at the thought of the angel.  "He's gone," Dean choked out, remembering the cold glare from the angel as he had turned away from them. 

 

Sam frowned, but nodded again.  "All right." 

 

Dean was more exhausted than he could ever remember being in his entire life when he pulled into the safe house.  Sam came in behind him and they cleared the room, ensuring that they were alone. 

 

"Clear," Sam called, walking back out of the bedroom.  "You go lay down and get some sleep." 

 

Dean shook his head.  "Not sure I can." 

 

"You're gonna try," Sam ordered with a grunt, glaring at his brother.  "Now get going already." 

 

Dean glowered at Sam.  "Don't be a bitch, Sammy." 

 

Sam grinned back at him.  "Don't be such a jerk, Dean." 

 

Dean rolled his eyes, but trudged in the direction of the bed, falling on top of the covers with a groan.  Everything was so fucked up.  There was going to be no coming back from this.  The world was ending, Lucifer was free, and so were the horsemen. 

 

The sound of the TV flicking on had him jumping until he realized it was Sam.  He forced himself to relax and dozed, exhaustion blacking him out.  He twitched and shivered, worried about what he was supposed to do.  Because there was nothing to do. 

 

Castiel was gone.  Lucifer was free, and coming for Sam.  Michael would be coming for him.  He tightened his hands in the pillow under his head and tried to take a breath, even as everything kept pressing in.  They would figure something out.  They _would_. 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

Sam waited until Dean fell asleep and the sound of the television would cover his phone call.  He pressed a single number and dialed it, leaning back against the couch, his body aching from wounds he didn't have any longer. 

 

"Sam!  Thank god boy, I was afraid that Lucifer had already found you both, I've been trying to call you for hours-"

 

"Bobby," Sam said, his voice cracking. 

 

Bobby froze and clenched his eyes shut, turning his back on the room he was standing in, facing the wall, sucking in a hard breath.  "Yeah, kid?" 

 

"How do we fix this?" Sam asked, even though he knew it was hopeless.  His tattoo pulsed, a strange mix of concern and laughter echoing in the back of his mind. 

 

Bobby was silent.  He turned his head enough to look at the news stories pouring in from across the world.  "I don't know if this one is fixable, Sam." 

 

Sam closed his eyes and took a slow, shuddering breath.  "But, I can't-"

 

"Lucifer doesn't know that.  And neither does Michael.  You'll be tortured into saying yes, by either of them, and when it doesn't work, you'll be killed," Bobby said, tightening his hand on the phone. 

 

Sam gave a hoarse chuckle.  "Good, I deserve it." 

 

"No, you don't, kid," Bobby corrected.  "You both fucked up, it's true.  But you don't deserve this." 

 

"What do we do?" Sam asked, staring at the ceiling.  "Where can we go?" 

 

"You run," Bobby ordered.  "You run for as long, as far as you can.  The both of you." 

 

Sam rubbed at his face, swiping away the tears gathering in his eyes.  "We can't outrun two immortals, Bobby." 

 

"No," Bobby agreed.  "You can't."  But if there was something to be found, anything at all, maybe they would have enough time to do it.  "But that's what you've got." 

 

"If they catch us-"

 

"If they catch you," Bobby interrupted.  "You give them _Hell_.  Circle of holy oil.  Trap one.  Steal a sword from them.  It’ll work on everything but an archangel.  You boys do me proud." 

 

Sam choked on his next breath of air, fighting tears.  "Yeah, yeah, okay." 

 

“Good luck, kid.” 

 

There was a beep in his ear that signified Bobby had disconnected the call.  Sam dropped his phone into his lap and sucked in a few, hard breaths.  They needed a plan.  They needed to decide where to go.  They needed to decide what the fuck they were going to do. 

 

~!~

 

Dean walked back out and frowned when he realized that Sam was awake, typing at his computer.  “What the hell are you doing?” 

 

“I have a plan,” Sam announced, pointing at the computer screen. 

 

Dean blinked.  “What?” 

 

Sam grinned a little.  “Have some coffee, then we can talk.”  He waved to the pot in the kitchen and turned back to his computer, taking down a few more notes. 

 

Dean scowled and stalked to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup.  He sipped it and walked back into the living room.  “You have a plan?  How the fuck do you have a plan when it’s the end of the world?”

 

“You have to promise me something first,” Sam said, turning to look at his brother. 

 

Dean raised an eyebrow.  “I have to what?” 

 

“Promise me that you’re not going to shoot me.  Because you’re going to want to,” Sam said, leaning back in the chair. 

 

Dean sat down across from Sam at the table.  “Sam.  It’s the end of the goddamn world.  Pretty sure you’re safe.” 

 

Sam rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm.  “Even if I tell you I’ve bonded myself to a pagan god to prevent Lucifer from attacking my dreams, and possessing me at all?” 

 

Dean stared at the markings on Sam’s arm, dark tattoos etched in a circle around his forearm.  “You _what_?!” 

 

Sam winced.

 

“You, you, what the fuck were you thinking?!” Dean shouted, glaring at his little brother.  “You’re under their control now, what if they want you to-”

 

“Actually no,” Sam said, holding up a finger.  “I’m a little bit smarter than that.  I bought his protection.  He bought something in return.” 

 

Dean narrowed his eyes.  “What did he buy?” 

 

“None of your damn business!” Sam said, his voice prim.  “But it was something from Bobby, as he’s sitting in the detention center underneath the building.” 

 

Dean relaxed a fraction and growled.  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“Because the world was ending, Dean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.  “And because I knew you wouldn’t be thrilled.” 

 

Dean pushed his fingers through his hair and tugged on the strands and forced himself to take a deep breath.  “Right.  So, you mentioned a plan?” 

 

Sam turned the computer around.  “We go here.  Stull Cemetery, outside Lawrence.  It’s where the showdown should take place.  From what I can find, anyway.” 

 

Dean cleared his throat, the handprint on his arm aching again.  “And why would we do that instead of putting every possible mile between us and that place?” 

 

“Because, we’re going to tell Lucifer and Michael that it’s off.” 

 

Dean blinked and stared at Sam.  “No.” 

 

“Yes,” Sam contradicted, narrowing his eyes at his brother.  “Think about it.” 

 

“You think about it!” Dean snapped.  “They’ll capture us, torture us, possess us-”

 

“I can’t be possessed!” Sam shot back, holding up his arm.  “This prevents that!  It’s like this one, but for angels,” he added, yanking down his shirt. 

 

Dean froze and stared at the tattoo.  “It’s...how...how do you know that?” 

 

“Bobby.  He researched the sigils.  Helped the Pagan build the spell,” Sam said.  “I looked it over myself.” 

 

“That doesn’t mean it fucking works!” Dean spat.  “You could have some useless ink that’s not going to do anything-”

 

“You’re forgetting about the soul bonding piece,” Sam said.  “They try to possess me?  The God kills me.  Not just kills me.  I cease to exist.  That’s my side of the deal.  Then Lucifer can’t use me.  So we tell them it’s called off.” 

 

“And, and, what?  Lucifer goes back off to fucking around trying to end the damn world?” Dean snapped. 

 

Sam narrowed his eyes at him.  “I didn’t say it was a good plan.  But if they both _stop_ , that gives us time to figure out something else!” 

 

Dean groaned and pushed his hand through his hair again.  “What makes you think he’ll stop?”

 

Sam smirked.  “You.” 

 

“Me,” Dean blinked.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

 

“You’re going to threaten Lucifer, with Michael,” Sam said.  “It’ll be the bluff to end all bluffs.” 

 

“You…” Dean started, and then stopped.  He thought about it and stared at Sam.  “That...might actually work.” 

 

Sam nodded, taking another deep breath.  “It might, yeah.  Michael doesn’t have a reason to possess you if Lucifer’s not at large.”

 

“Right,” Dean said, nodding.  “The horsemen are at large-”

 

“But there’s enough lore on them that I’m betting Bobby and the others can at _least_ hold them at bay,” Sam said, staring at Dean.  “They know what they’re going up against.” 

 

Dean grinned a little bit.  “Okay.  _Okay_.  This is fucked to shit and there’s no way it’s going to work-”

 

“But it’s the best idea we’ve got,” Sam finished. 

 

“Yep,” Dean drawled.  “And we’re probably going to die.” 

 

Sam nodded and leaned back in the chair.  “But we’ll go down on our terms, our way.  Fighting all the way.” 

 

“You got that right,” Dean said, finishing off his coffee. 

 

“Speaking of our terms, Dean.  What do you think about a holy oil version of a molotov cocktail?”

 

Dean smirked. 

 

~!~

 

The drive to Lawrence, retracing their steps back towards Kansas was fast.  Dean did his best to relax and let the rhythm of the drive take over, but the steady ache of the handprint and Sam, sitting tense in the front seat next to him, kept him from relaxing entirely. 

 

"We need to call Bobby," Sam said, watching as they passed the Welcome to Kansas sign.  They didn't have far to go now.  He took a deep breath and looked over at Dean.  "Tell him what we're planning, say goodbye." 

 

"He'll try to stop us," Dean said, tightening his hand on the wheel.  "We need to do this and it needs to be just us.  We can get this done." 

 

Sam bit down on his lip and nodded, looking at his phone.  "Anyone you want to say goodbye to, in case?" 

 

Dean looked over at his little brother.  "No.  It's going to work.  We're not going to need to say goodbye.  We're going to bluff them and it's going to work." 

 

Sam laughed and leaned his head back against the seat.  "Yeah, Dean.  It's gonna work." 

 

Dean nodded, his jaw tight.  "It will."  He pressed down on the accelerator harder, making the Impala jump as she sped up.  "It will," he promised. 

 

Sam didn't reply. 

 

~!~

 

The graveyard was empty when they arrived.  Dean walked closer to the large empty field in the middle of it and felt the handprint on his arm burn.  He rubbed at it nervously, taking another deep breath.  "Your tattoo ever burn like it bothers you?" 

 

Sam looked over at his brother.  "Yeah.  Doing it right now.  He knows that I'm planning something.  Doesn't like it." 

 

Dean nodded and rubbed at his arm again.  "All right.  How do we go about doing this?" 

 

Sam held up his duffel bag.  "We summon them.  Tell them the deal.  Everything is off.  They want to kill each other, they aren't doing it here." 

 

Dean smirked at his brother.  "There's no way that they're going to buy this."

 

"Better than running?" Sam asked him. 

 

"Yeah," Dean agreed, clearing his throat as he took the items Sam offered him.  "Much better than running." 

 

It didn't take them long to set up the ritual, both of them standing outside their respective circles of holy oil.  If this worked properly, both Michael and Lucifer would be trapped.  Dean glanced at Sam and opened the lighter in his hands, thumbing the flint.  "Ready?" 

 

Sam nodded at him.  "Ready as I'm ever going to get the summon the damn devil."

 

Dean barked out a laugh that he didn't really feel and stepped up to the edge of the circle, saying the few quick words that would activate the summoning.  Beside him, he felt Sam do the same. 

 

In an instant, the field was dark, though there were no clouds in sight.  The air became heavier and lightning crackled.  Dean kept his hand on the lighter, and once a man appeared in the circle in front of him, he threw the lighter down, the oil burning around him. 

 

A few feet away, he saw Sam do the same.  The field went silent, and the hand print burned to the point where Dean was damn sure his arm was being burnt all over again. 

 

"Little Sammy Winchester," Lucifer purred, looking between the brothers.  "Do you really think that you can hold us here?" 

 

Dean glanced over at Lucifer, at the way the flesh was peeling off the man he was wearing and felt his stomach roll.  "Just for long enough," he said, looking back at Michael.  He found his father staring at him and froze.  "D-Dad?" 

 

Michael tilted his head and studied the human in front of him.  This was his vessel?  The one that would carry him to defeat Lucifer?  "You know I am not your father, Dean." 

 

"Dean," Sam snapped, looking down at the oil.  They didn't have long and needed to make the use of the time here. 

 

"Make one move abomination and you die," A cold voice said. 

 

Sam froze as a thin blade was put under his throat. 

 

"You see," Michael said, turning to look at Dean.  "You may think you are in control, but you are not." 

 

"None of you can touch the flames," Dean said, desperately glancing between Sam and the angel holding a blade to his throat.  "I can keep you here for as long as I damn well please." 

 

Michael raised an eyebrow.  "So you would like me to give the order to slit your brother's throat?" 

 

"No!" Dean snapped.  "I want you to hear us out." 

 

Michael laughed, his head falling back.  "Now why, would we do that?" 

 

Lucifer chuckled.  "Harm my vessel," he said, advancing on the angel who stood just outside the circle.  "Touch one hair on his head, and I shall make sure that you are pulled apart by the very threads of your grace as slowly as can be managed.  Your torture will last millennia, while all watch." 

 

Sam swallowed and felt the blade shift a few millimeters so it wasn't pressed tightly against his throat.  "Not your vessel," he spat, glaring at Lucifer. 

 

"Oh but you are," Lucifer said, prowling along the edge of the holy fire.  "And a more perfect vessel could not be found." 

 

Dean shared another look with Sam and nodded.  "Sorry to inform the both of you, but we're not playing ball."  He cleared his throat and looked to Sam. 

 

Sam looked to Michael and stepped away from the angel holding him hostage.  "You try to possess me?  I die." 

 

"So?  I can pull you from Hell myself-"

 

"No," Sam interrupted, staring down the devil when furious eyes turned to him.  He rolled up his sleeve and showed Lucifer the Enochian markings.  "You possess me?  I am destroyed.  My soul, my body, all of it?  _Gone_." 

 

Lucifer stared at the markings, his eyes wide and furious.  "Where did you find those spells, human!?" 

 

Dean stepped up to him.  "None of your damn business.  We're in control here, not you." 

 

Michael turned to stare at Dean.  "I do not sense any such spells on you." 

 

Dean shrugged and looked at Michael and then to Lucifer.  "No point in possessing me if Luci over there can't get his rage on." 

 

Michael narrowed his eyes. 

 

"So," Sam continued.  "Lucifer.  Stand down." 

 

Lucifer laughed, his head falling back.  "Why would I?  I will destroy every single thing you know and hold dear.  I will kill your friends, your family, anyone you have ever met.  I will-" 

 

"Not do a single thing," Dean snarled, meeting Lucifer's furious grace-white eyes when they spun to him. 

 

"And how," Lucifer said, his voice slicing the air.  "Do you propose to make me do that, _human_?" 

 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest.  "You do?  I say what good son over here wants me to and he destroys you.  I have a feeling in that vessel you're currently rocking?  You'll get steamrolled." 

 

Michael stepped closer to the edge of the ring of holy fire. 

 

Lucifer's eyes narrowed and darted between Michael and the human.  "You wouldn't give your life up so easily." 

 

Dean snorted.  "We're talking about giving up my life to stop the devil.  No contest there, Luci.  So either you stand down, or I end you, real quick." 

 

Lucifer hummed and studied the human in front of him.  "You don't want to die." 

 

"Of course not, who wants to die?" Dean said, shrugging at him.  "I'll do it to make sure you get what you have coming to you." 

 

"Hm," Michael said, studying the two of them.  "I propose an alternate solution.  As... _interesting_ as your attempt to use me as leverage against Lucifer is, Dean, I'm afraid that I can't allow it." 

 

Dean turned to look at Michael.  "Big words for someone standing behind some holy fire." 

 

Sam took a step towards his brother and found an angel blade pressed under his throat again.  "Dean!" 

 

"Castiel," Michael called, his eyes on Dean.  "Now the time has come for you to prove your words, that you are truly beyond the influence of these humans and once again aligned with your brothers and sisters." 

 

Castiel stepped out from behind the ring of fire and advanced on Dean. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Criticisms welcome!
> 
> You can find me here: 
> 
> [Aria-Lerendeair ](http://aria-lerendeair.tumblr.com/)
> 
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